Flight
by The Ladies Luck
Summary: From the time they fled Caldea, Diana and Phantom travellled far and wide across MAR Heaven. From these travels, the seeds of the Chess Pieces were born. MAR Fanfiction Incentive


**A Note From Lady Bad Luck:** This is my contribution to the Incentive thread on the Marchen Awakens Romance forum. Apologies for the fact that it's so long, but I couldn't think of any way I could shorten it without glossing over the plot in patches. Ah well, I hope it's good enough to make up for its length.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own MAR, it's characters, or it's places. I do, however, own Abigail, the plot, and Monos and Rangia. Original geography, haha. Happy now, lawyers?

**Title:** Flight

**Word Count:** 25,247. Long, huh?

**Rating:** T

**Genre:** Adventure (?) maybe? Technically historic- for MAR Heaven at least. Definitely angst.

**Warnings:** Childish Phantom, attempted angst, and a decent helping of blood and guts. And some maybe quite odd scenes of a magical origin…

**Summary:** Following their flight from Caldea, Phantom and Diana traveled far and wide over MAR Heaven. From these travels, the seeds of the Chess Pieces were born.

* * *

**_Flight_**

It was light inside the Three Kings Inn. Candle-light flickered from every table in the dining room, and loud conversation filled the air, along with hints of alcohol and roasting meat. People filled almost every bit of space in the room- sailors on leave from their ships, loud and beefy farmers, the pretty young serving-girls that wove their way through the crowd. And at a table in the darkest corner of the room, a princess of the magical kingdom of Caldea sat, trying to drown out the screams that echoed in her ears.

It had been three days since Diana Haidheltac had fled from Caldea; three long, terrifying days with only an ex-prisoner with a child's mind for company, three days spent running from imagined shadows, across water and land, until they at last found a place where they could stay for a while and get their breath back. Three days since she had last seen her baby sister.

Diana blinked, and set down her fork. The heavy metal chinked gently against the dirty ceramic of the plate.

Three days had seen her to this place, the largest inn the small coastal town of Jora had to offer. She had only been here for two hours, and already the prophecies of the disembodied spirit she and the man called Tom had stolen from Caldea's palace had been proven true. Humanity was well and truly rotten.

The crowd in the inn seemed oblivious to her displeasure. In particular, there was a group of drunken sailors sitting near the bar, alternating between singing bawdy songs, downing mugs of beer, and flirting unsuccessfully with the maids that served them. In the last couple of minutes, Diana seemed to have attracted their attention.

On the other side of the table, Tom was absent-mindedly drawing a snail in the puddle of gravy on his plate, and over by the bar, a couple of serving-girls were shooting coquettish glances at him. Thanks to Diana's protection, he didn't look nearly as bad as he had when she had first found him- he wasn't skeletal anymore, and his hair was growing out from its strange, patchy style, flopping over his eyes in a way that gave him a mysterious, sensitive look. The bruise around his left eye was fading, and he looked content, careless, as though he hadn't a care in the world.

If Diana knew him, he probably didn't. Over the course of her talks with him she had come to realize a few startling truths about the man. He seemed to have no concept of fear- he had laughed when she told him about the hunters- and yet when they had fled, clinging tightly to the Aeros Staff, his entire body had been racked with terror. She had seen it in his eyes- pure, simple fear, like that of a child afraid of the dark.

But if Diana herself had looked in a mirror, she would have seen a foreign creature staring back at her. Her once glossy hair was lank and matted, several inches shorter on one side thanks to a hunter's sword, and her blue eyes were hooded and glassy with weariness. Her alabaster skin was ghostly pale and smeared with dirt and worse from their flight. Her clothes, the same clothes she had worn for the past week or so, were ripped and torn, as if she'd run through a bramble bush. She looked like a woman at the end of her sanity.

And really, she was. Only a madwoman would commit treason in Caldea, knowing what the punishment was. Only a madwoman would spring a prisoner from the dungeons in the base of the palace and with his help, steal hundreds of rare ARMs and flee the country. And to leave Dorothy behind, in the hands of the cold and unforgiving nobility? That was an act of pure insanity.

"Would the mistress like a drink?" A maid enquired in passing, and Diana silently waved her away, shaking her head. She hadn't missed the look the girl sent Phantom's way, and in Diana's experience, looks like that tended to put flaws in even the most carefully laid plans. She didn't care if Phantom had the mental age of a ten-year-old- in reality, he was twenty, and that particular serving girl was quite pretty.

The serving maid went, and out of the corner of her eye, Diana spotted one of the sailors who had been eyeing her push his way through the crowd towards her.

Diana sighed, and turned back to staring at the table-top. Oh, how she wished she were invisible.

_^*^_

It wasn't long until she gave up trying to appear normal, and retreated upstairs, away from the noise and bustle and curious eyes. The dusty stairwell was full of cobwebs, and Diana curled her lip in silent disdain. Did the dirt in people's minds blind them to the dirt in their homes?

Her room was the third on the left side of the hallway, and as if in direct contrast to the stairwell, it was immaculately clean. Diana's lips twitched in faint amusement. Tom had obviously come in at some stage- the door that linked her room with his was slightly ajar, and an ARM was lying on the bedside table- and some inattentive maid had left a dirty cloth hanging on the coathook on the back of the main door.

She quickly crossed over to the bedside table, curious to see which ARM Tom had left her, and picked up the small silver charm in her hand, the insatiable curiosity that filled her whenever she was faced with things of the arcane nature flickering in her mind. It was powerful, but she could have guessed that- all the ARMs they had stolen from the vaults were powerful, it was why they were in there- and engraved with an odd pattern of swirls, like those she had seen on some of the older frescoes around Caldea. Impulsively, she pumped some magic into it, and felt the hot longing of a dormant fire elemental to burst into flame and burn.

She quickly deactivated it; she didn't want a burning building to attract Caldea's hunters again.

A slight creak sounded behind her, and Diana spun around, her sharp eyes noticing the floorboards near the door warping slightly, bowing upwards as someone walked past in the hallway. She sighed, stretching limbs stiff with fatigue, and glanced out the window, hoping against hope that she wouldn't spot any shadowy figures swooping around out there. She'd effectively been reduced to a mouse, always wary and nervous of the next predator, and she hated it. She hated feeling so helpless and hunted. She was supposed to be the one in control.

She absently scanned the room as she drew the curtains, subconsciously thanking the inn owners for the lack of furniture in the room. There was nothing even close to being large enough to provide cover for a potential assassin. But Diana knew that that alone wouldn't stop the hunters.

The torn and muddy hems of her skirts brushed uncomfortably against her ankles, and Diana kicked off the leather-soled slippers she had been wearing for the last couple of days, intending to change into something cleaner. She didn't stand out much even in the muddy garment- half the town girls had such stains and worse on theirs- but something in her rebelled at the idea of wearing something so grimy.

The single large rucksack she'd managed to carry all the way from Caldea sat slumped against the skirting board on the other side of the room, its drawstring tied in a neat knot and loose ends trailing onto the floor. Diana bent to pick it up, and a cut on her shoulder protested viciously. She winced, swallowing the pain, and untied the drawstring of the sack instead, dragging it over to the bed. She sat down on the covers again, and hauled the sack onto the bed with her, biting her lip as her shoulder twinged again. She'd have to get Tom to have a look at that cut sometime.

She hunted around in the bag for a spare dress or skirt, hoping she'd had the sense to pack a couple at least before that mad dash out of the Palace, before she lost patience and hauled everything she could get hold of out of the bag. There were a couple of skirts, and her good sporting trousers twisted and tangled up with them. Somehow, she'd also managed to fit several dozen ARMs in there, including her most prized Cerberus Guardian and the Ghost ARM Dahlia, which scared off all but the most dedicated and powerful opponents.

The last thing in her bag was something small, hard and icy-cold. Diana's fingers closed around the thin projection that protruded from the base, and she carefully drew it out of the bag.

It was a small hand mirror, cast entirely from glass and with an inlaid silver backing. Tiny trailing rosevines were painted around the handle and up the back, buds so dark purple they were almost black blooming on the cold glass. It was a pretty thing, just the sort that Diana normally coveted, but the sight of it brought cold memories back. Diana stared wordlessly at it, trying to remember why she'd packed it, and a face swam in front of her vision, cold and sharp and beautiful.

"_This is a symbol of the house of Haidheltac, to which you belong. Never forget that, no matter how long you live."_

A sudden burst of rage raced through Diana's veins, and she flung the beautiful thing as hard as she could at the wall. The glass shattered, tiny diamonds seeming to hang in the air before they dropped to the carpeted floor. Diana glared at the remnants of the mirror, fast breaths hitching in her throat.

"You all right in there?" Tom asked from the adjoining room, his voice slightly muffled through the thin wall.

"Yes, I'm fine," Diana replied, taking a deep breath and steadying her voice. It wasn't like her to let her emotions get the better of her.

_I belong to no-one, not even you, Mother…_

"Okay then!" Tom chirped, and Diana smiled despite herself. He was like an overgrown child, that Tom… He reminded her of Dorothy.

Her faint amusement disappeared like a rabbit down a burrow. Dorothy, her one remaining relative and beloved little sister, whom she'd left in Caldea to face alone…

Guilt suddenly overwhelmed Diana, and she sank down onto the bed, burying her face in her hands and choking back a wave of self-loathing that threatened to engulf her. _The one person who had never betrayed her, and what had she done but abandon her to her fate?_ Some princess she was.

The clock on the wall chimed the hour as she drew her legs up to her chest and curled up tight, her original intentions long lost. Thoughts came easily, from wordless cries of rage and sadness to calm and measured plans of conquest, and Diana clutched tight to the fabric of her thick, torn skirts as a memory of her escape from Caldea floated past her eyes. It was painful, almost too painful to bear.

Gradually, her eyelids drifted closed, as the cosy silence in the room lulled her into a troubled sleep. She dreamed of foxgloves and strawberries, and a little girl crying for her lost sister.

_^*^_

Rays of sunlight caressing her face was what woke Diana the next morning. She had forgotten to draw the heavy brocade curtains, and as soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, her east-facing room was bathed in golden light.

Silently, she hauled herself off the bed and changed into a new skirt, before slipping on her shoes and repacking her sack. Her ruined skirt got tossed unceremoniously out the window, and with everything done, she slipped through the door and into Tom's room.

His curtains were closed, blocking out the glorious sun, and the first thing Diana did was stride over to the windows and rip apart the curtains. Tom was instantly awake, and he scrambled up and out of the bed, panicked and wary before he remembered where he was.

"Get dressed," Diana ordered without turning around, well aware that he was completely naked. "We're going north today."

"Uh, okay," Tom said, half-yawning and completely unashamed, and she heard the rustling of fabric as he threw on his filthy clothes. Diana determinedly stared out the window until the movement stopped, and then turned to face him, her sharp eyes taking in the layout of the room. Like hers, it was dull and bare, and several haversacks lay about the floor, three bulging and lumpy and the fourth empty but for a perfect spherical shape.

This last sack drew Diana's attention, and she said, sharply and clearly, "Good morning, Orb."

_A fine morning to you as well, my dear Queen,_ came the sibilant reply. _And to you, Tom. Is there any particular reason we are moving on today?_

"I can't stand being around these people one more minute," Diana stated, picking up one of the heavy sacks that carried the ARMs they had stolen from Caldea's vaults. "The benefits of being amongst humans are far outweighed by the negatives."

_Ah, so we're back on the road again, _the Orb said, sounding almost jolly. _Do tell me when we get wherever it is that we're going._

Hours later, the sun was reaching its peak. Diana and Tom had been walking for hours, and the countryside around them showed no signs of changing any time soon. They were following the northbound cart road, and on either side, the fields were filled with corn stalks six or more feet tall. The papery leaves rustled in the breeze, and fluffy white clouds scudded across the azure sky, casting the occasional shadow on the ground. The summer air was hot and fresh, and insects and birds were just starting to ease off singing as the real heat of the day set in.

"So, uh, Princess, why can't we use Andata?" Tom suddenly asked, from somewhere behind Diana. "It'd be a whole lot less tiring to just warp to wherever it is that we're going."

She smiled to herself, having expected this question a long time ago. Tom had never gotten to use Andata in Caldea, so it was no surprise that he didn't know.

"Because Andata takes its co-ordinates from your memories, therefore you cannot use it to get to a place you have not been to before, otherwise you might well end up entombed inside a mountain. And besides, I still don't know where we are headed. Don't call me princess, my name is Diana."

"Cop-out," Tom muttered, snickering to himself. "So why did you do it?"

"What?" Diana asked, confused by the sudden change of topic. She glanced back to where Tom was walking, lagging behind by several steps, and asked," What do you mean?"

"Why did you rescue me?" he asked, his violet eyes meeting hers for the first time since Caldea. "If it was you in that cell, I wouldn't have."

There was distrust in there, and also confusion, Diana decided, watching the feelings that showed in his eyes. Aloud, she said, "I took you because I felt that would be the best course of action at the time. Whether or not you prove me right is an entire other question."

Tom blinked, and gave a short laugh. "That's confusing. Why'd you want to leave Caldea anyway?"

Diana wrinkled her nose. So Tom's chattiness was coming back. "Same reason as you. I listened to the Orb."

"Won't they send your family after you?"

Diana shook her head. "I have no family left."

_Apart from Dorothy, that is,_ she mentally added, biting her lip in worry. _They wouldn't send a six-year-old out to become an avenger, would they?_

"Ah! Like me!" Tom grinned beside her, unaware of her turmoil. "My parents killed themselves rather than kill me, so the hunters just chucked me in the dungeons." A lost expression meandered onto his handsome features, a child's expression on a man's face. "Should I feel sad?"

The Orb spoke then. _No. Mourn them, respect them, but they were victims of a rotten world. You should feel anger towards those that forced them to die._

Diana glanced back at the pack that held the Orb, a plain grey thing hanging from Tom's shoulder. "Then what if your parents were part of that rotten world?" she asked, trying to remain cold and aloof.

The Orb seemed to chuckle. _Oh, my queen, do you still love your parents? No, you don't have to answer that, I can see your indecision as clearly as a thunderhead on a sunny day. You hate them for what they've done, yet it was them who gave you life, and it makes you confused and angry because you feel that it's wrong, yet you still can't help loving them._

Diana bit her lip and glared straight ahead, hoping that neither Tom nor the Orb could see her expression. Her mother's voice echoed, bell-like, in her ears.

_Oh,_ the Orb continued, and she swore she heard a hint of a chuckle in its dry-parchment voice,_ Tom, I may have a solution to your troublesome emotions._

"Yeah?" Tom interestedly asked, as the dried mud of the road crackled underfoot.

_Change your name,_ the Orb said simply. _A new name means a new identity, and a new identity means new ties. In fact, I have a name in mind that I think would suit you perfectly._

"What is it?"

The Orb paused slightly, as if to savour the taste of the words.

_Phantom,_ it said at last. _I cannot adequately explain why I believe it fits, but who better to lead humanity into a new world than the ghost of the old one?_

Tom frowned, tilting his head to the side as he considered the suggestion. Then, a bright smile spread across his face.

"I like it!" he exclaimed. "I'll be Phantom from now on. Remember that, Princ- I mean, Diana! I'm Phantom!"

"Very well then," Diana said detachedly, studying the road ahead of them. "If I am to be the Queen, then you will be my loyal first knight. I dub thee Phantom; may you serve me well." She paused as she spoke, and spun around, raising her hand to tap Phantom once on each shoulder, and then on the crown of his head.

"What was that for?" Phantom asked bemusedly, his hand drifting upwards to rub absently at the spot on his head where her hand had touched him. Diana smiled shortly in answer, and turned back to face the road ahead.

That was when the fields around them erupted into chaos, black figures pouring into the air.

"Hunters!!" Phantom shrieked, assuming a feral, half-crouched stance, fluttering shadows reflected in his wide, panicked purple eyes. Diana's breath hissed through her gritted teeth, and she dashed back to Phantom, pressing an ARM into his shaking hand. "Fight," she whispered, her eyes twitching in their sockets as they tracked the hypnotic movement of the hunters. There were seven of them, coming closer with every lazy swoop, and she could feel their animalistic bloodlust- their every movement betrayed it.

"Which one?" Phantom asked, his shivers lessening. Diana's icy calm was leeching into him, just as she had hoped.

"Standard," she whispered. "Kill them." Without waiting for a reply, she leapt into the air, her magic flowing through the Aeros Staff, and she shot towards the flock of hunters, her mind cold and intent on the kill.

One hunter challenged her first, shooting out from the company of his fellows and nocking an arrow on the bow that had appeared out of thin air in his hands. Diana flung out her free hand, and a low level guardian materialized, taking the arrow through its neck and promptly disappearing again; Diana shot past it, and then the hunter was right in front of her; she gripped the Staff with both hands and whipped it around to slice him in two with a deadly blast of air.

The other hunters converged on her then, as she shot backwards from the killing blast before a single drop of blood could stain her clothes. One summoned a guardian, a large dragonish thing; Diana jinked around and pressed herself against its scaly back, using it as leverage to slam the business end of the staff into the closest hunter's solar plexus. He sputtered, and fell to the earth as she dragged the ornate, deadly steel out of his flesh.

The guardian disappeared as Diana flew at a third, taking advantage of his surprise to send a blast of wind at him. It hit him hard, opening up a jagged slash from shoulder to hip, and he howled as she spun away, dodging a blast of ugly orange fire from one of the remaining hunters. She let go of the magic, and for a heart-stopping moment plummeted, hauling herself out of the dive just before she hit the unforgiving earth. The hunters dove after her, and she let herself touch the ground, holding the Aeros Staff like a club and swinging it, sending another gust of wind to smother the flames the other hunter sent after her.

"Aaaauughh!"

Phantom's harsh scream grated across Diana's senses like fingernails on a blackboard. She instinctively turned towards the road, where she'd left him to fend for himself, and a black-veiled face was suddenly in her vision. She jerked backwards so fast her muscles screamed in protest, and the thin edge of a knife scored a hot line across her stomach.

She gasped, and reflexively swept the Aeros Staff across in front of her, but he was gone, and she was wounded, and _was Phantom okay?_ She spun, just in time to see the hunter's blade descending.

Then it was gone, lost in a tangle of roots and supple green branches that had knocked it aside like an oversized ornament. Diana's eyes widened in shock, and she quickly glanced in the direction the blast of greenery had come from. Her heart leapt into her throat.

A figure clad all in white stood there, blindingly bright in the midday sun. A staff capped with a miniature tree was planted in the soft ground beside him, and his long, snowy-white beard fluttered in the gently wind. Inexplicably, another miniature tree seemed to be growing on his head, and for a moment, Diana thought she was hallucinating, imagining some sort of farmland spirit.

Then movement flickered to her left, and she spun to meet her last hunter's attack. A barrage of icy needles flew towards her, and she spun the Staff, creating a blast of wind that shattered the needles and drove the shards back in the other direction. The hunter howled in pain as they peppered his exposed skin, and then his scream cut off abruptly as Diana's wind blasted him in two.

Breathing hard, Diana rose into the air once more, searching for Phantom. The spirit-man could wait for now.

She found him on the road where she had left him, his pale tunic drenched with dark red blood as he faced off against a hunter. To Diana's immense surprise, there was already a body lying on the ground a few feet away from him. It was definitely dead- no human she had ever met could survive having its brains dashed out and spilled on the dirt.

And as she watched, the seventh hunter launched its final attack, materializing a giant stone axe and rushing at Phantom, who tightened his grip around the shaft of the lance ARM Diana had given him. He dodged around the axe as it swept for him, and with a scream of exertion, brutally shoved the foot-long blade into the hunter's chest, so hard it burst out of the black-clad back again.

Silence fell in the road, with no sound except Phantom's frenzied breathing. A slight rustle sounded in the corn behind Diana, and she felt a burst of soft green magic before the old man who had killed the hunter stepped up beside her.

Suddenly Phantom's wild yells filled the air- "Orb! Orb! I got them! I killed a man!"- and with the multitude of emotions filling his voice, Diana couldn't tell if the man was elated or terrified by what he'd done. Blood from a cut on his forehead streaked his face, and his eyes were wide and feral with adrenaline. There was a large gash across his chest, deep enough to expose the ribs, and he was still clinging protectively to the Orb's sack.

_Very good!_ The Orb's emanating voice was proud and sibilant, even as Phantom drew it out of the ruined sack. _In fact, excellent! However, that one gash could prove dangerous if you don't stop the bleeding._

"What on sweet Mother Earth is that?" Diana's saviour asked, his squinty eyes widening in shock as Phantom trotted obediently over to Diana, the Orb held reverently in his hands. Phantom stopped dead when he noticed the other man.

_It is all right,_ the Orb unexpectedly said._ He is as we are._ The dark smoke in its core swirled mesmerizingly, puffs reaching out towards Phantom's hands. _My Queen, I believe Phantom needs a Holy ARM. He is losing blood at an alarming rate._

Diana nodded, having noticed the wicked gash in her knight's chest, and pulled a thin, dull bronze ring off her middle finger. She fed her magic into it, and closed her eyes in bliss as the magic spread through her body, healing all the cuts and scrapes she had received over the past week. _It's really past time I should have done this… _

Then, opening her eyes, she reached out to Phantom, and gently touched her fingertips to his head. Like she had done, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh of contentment as skin and flesh knitted together and new blood filled his veins.

"Useful ARM," he commented flippantly, smiling faintly as she withdrew her fingertips. "What's it called?"

"Paean," Diana replied, and slipped it back onto her finger. "I made it."

"Then you're Caldean, eh?"

Damn. She'd forgotten about the old plant man. She turned to face him, looking him up and down in an effort to see what sort of person he was.

He was old, very old for a Lestavan peasant. His beard was completely white, reaching all the way down to his belt, and his face was covered with deep wrinkles. He wore a white robe, with earth stains on the hems and tied using a piece of rope for a belt. The tree on his head looked just as old, with a thick, gnarled trunk and tiny, perfect leaves. It seemed to be flowering at the moment, and was dropping tiny petals like snowflakes with every breeze that passed.

_Weasel, I believe?_ The Orb suddenly said. The man jerked backwards, a thunderous expression crossing his face.

"Who told you that?" he asked slowly.

_You did,_ the Orb replied._ I can see your thoughts as clear as day, and I applaud them, for you see clearly what most men cannot even begin to believe._

"Huh?" Phantom asked. The Orb ignored him.

Our mission needs more men like you. We aim to cleanse this rotten world of the suffering and pain that human beings cause, and to do that, we need to be strong. You are strong. Will you join us?

Weasel was silent, looking from Diana to the Orb and back to Phantom, before he let out a sigh and shook his head, his long white beard fluttering in the wind. "I don't know how you know all that, and frankly, I don't want to know. I can help you out if you need a place to stay for a while, but just don't ask me about joining you."

_That would be acceptable,_ the Orb said, sounding satisfied. Diana looked at Phantom, and Phantom's wide violet eyes gazed back at her, before he shrugged.

"Hey, whatever happens, I guess," he said, grinning affably at Weasel. "So how far away is this place to stay? I'm starving."

_^*^_

Weasel's 'place to stay' turned out to be not that far away at all, luckily for Phantom's greedy stomach. The old man was a hermit, and lived in a secluded little cottage, tucked several yards back from the edge of a tall cliff above the ocean. It was surrounded by a wild forest of young trees, vines and bushes on three sides, with a small area of lawn between the cliff and the cottage itself. With the midday sun lancing down on the land and glinting off the sea, it was truly beautiful.

Diana first saw all this as she pushed her way out of the thick undergrowth of the forest, hurriedly following after Weasel as he led them along a supposed track that only he seemed to be able to find. When she emerged into the clearing, her eyes went wide, and she stopped dead, Phantom's complaints as thin branches whipped back at him fading in her ears.

"Beautiful, is it not?" Weasel said quietly, and Diana turned to look at him, gazing out across the sea as if he could see all the way to Caldea. "If I let the farmers have their way, this would be destroyed to make more cornfields. They can't see what's right in front of their noses."

_Pitiful,_ The Orb sympathetically agreed. Weasel nodded jerkily, and then laughed, a light, jolly sound that rang pleasantly through the clearing.

"Well, come get some food in your bellies, and we'll see what happens."

"Yes please!" Phantom said, grinning in anticipation, and followed him across the lawn and up onto the small porch at the front of the cottage. "You coming, Diana?"

Diana blinked, and turned her sharp sapphire eyes on Phantom. "Of course. I was just thinking."

Oblivious Phantom just chuckled, and strode into the cottage.

Later that night, clouds closed in over the land, and it began to rain- small drops pattering against the dry ground at first, before the heavens burst open and let loose a thundering flood of water. Weasel's thatched roof leaked in places, and a pair of buckets sat underneath the worst drips. They made hollow 'plops' every so often, as drips plummeted into the buckets.

Despite her protests, Weasel had insisted that Diana take the lone bed in the cottage, and wouldn't hear otherwise. It smelled kind of musty, she thought as she pulled the blankets tighter around her body. She'd gone to bed early, using the excuse of resting up before resuming the journey tomorrow, and she could just hear Phantom and Weasel's conversation over the sound of the rain outside.

By the sounds of it, they were about to turn in for the night as well. The flickering light Weasel's fireplace was casting under the door seemed to be dying down, and so was the low murmur of their conversation.

"…you're heading to… Acalupa?"

"Yeah, I think!" Phantom's vibrant voice was much easier to hear. "That was what the milestone said, anyway. I don't know if Diana noticed it."

Diana blinked slowly, her eyes feeling heavy-lidded and tired. _So we're still on the northwest road?_ she thought, trying in vain to remember her foreign geography lessons. _It really is getting late…_

"Then where... Acalupa's a port town… ships take… overseas."

Overseas… That wasn't a bad idea, actually. At the very least, they might lose the hunters that way. As for where, though…

Diana's eyes flickered shut, and she sighed, shivering suddenly. There were several countries she and Phantom could visit. Seren and Monos were the two closest, but Seren was fighting a civil war, and in Monos, a bloody religion had a stranglehold on every facet of people's lives. Diana and the Orb were unanimous in their disgust. Rangia, a close neighbour of Monos, was at war with both itself and Alexandros, its neighbor on the other side. The islands of Teltheiron were more than six months away by ship.

Diana gritted her teeth. _Fine then, Monos it is,_ she thought bitterly. _After Lestava, it will be the first country to be cleansed_.

She dreamed bloody dreams again that night, and all the while, Dorothy's plaintive voice echoed in her ears.

_^*^_

Thankfully, the rain had drizzled to a stop by the time they set out the next morning, though the road had turned into a veritable bog with all the water sitting on its surface. Diana and Phantom walked along the grassy verges, avoiding puddles and the occasional stranded snail as they journeyed onwards to Acalupa. They'd left most of the ARMs with Weasel, which had lightened their loads a great deal. Somehow, Diana knew she could trust the old hermit.

They stayed the next night in a crowded wayhouse two miles outside of Acalupa, stuffed together in a single, tiny room. It wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as Diana had feared it would be- Phantom fell asleep almost immediately, worn out by a hard day of training, and hearing his soft breathing next to her was strangely comforting.

Thoughts swirled around in Diana's head, keeping her awake, and gradually, a plan formulated itself in her brilliant mind. She was just putting the finishing touches on it, when, at last, she felt weariness overcome her. She dreamt peacefully that night, and woke late the next morning, when, with a crash and a yelp, Phantom fell off the bed.

"Owww…" he complained, clambering to his feet and staring, wide-eyed, around the room. Diana blinked, and bit back a smile.

"Please don't damage yourself," she commented dryly, and Phantom grinned apologetically, pulling on the shapeless jersey Weasel had given him the day before.

"I'll try. We're heading into Acalupa today?"

Diana nodded. "Yes. And then we will buy passage aboard a ship to Monos."

"Where's Monos?" Phantom asked, his eyes blank and confused. Diana blinked again. She'd forgotten about his unfortunate lack of education.

"Monos is a country across the Eastern Ocean from Acalupa," she summarised, staring blankly at the plaster ceiling. There were cracks running right through it, putting her in mind of a spiderweb.

She sighed, and added, "It isn't in very good shape right now."

"Who cares, as long as it gets the hunters off our tail?" Phantom said unexpectedly. "We'll be cleansing it, won't we?"

Diana shifted her gaze to him, her expression calm as always. _He really believes it,_ she thought, and then smiled.

"True enough," she agreed, clambering out of the bed and blinking in the sunlight that flooded in through the window. "Now, let's get going, shall we?

Acalupa was by far the biggest city Diana had ever been to. It was a veritable maze of winding alleys and open parks, its people crowding the streets with a seething mass of humanity. Pickpockets ran underfoot, and twice Diana had to warn Phantom to watch out, or else his belongings would disappear.

Around noon, delicious smells began to pervade the air, and Diana's stomach rumbled hungrily. Phantom either didn't hear it, or tactfully didn't say anything, though Diana suspected the former. Attentiveness wasn't his strong point.

Eventually, she took pity on his curiosity and called a halt somewhere in the middle of the city's market, counting out a couple of hundred pewter into his disbelieving hands. "Your jumpiness is making me nervous," she informed, him, with a smile to soften her sharp words. "Go have fun exploring for a while, and come to the port at midday. Just walk downhill, and you'll come to it sooner or later."

"You mean it? " Phantom asked disbelievingly. "I can have this?"

Diana nodded, and Phantom ginned so widely she almost thought his head was going to split in half. Then he darted off abruptly, and was soon lost amongst the crowd.

Diana sighed, and squinted carefully at the sun, judging the angle between it and the horizon. There was a good three hours to go until midday, if she had guessed right, and so she sighed, and wandered over to have a look at stall that sold fresh-baked bread.

_I may as well enjoy myself while I can,_ she thought, but she still didn't stop checking the crowd for black-cloaked figures every few minutes.

Great bells marked the start of the midday hour in Acalupa. Diana had just entered the docklands when they rang out, and she hung around the archway that marked the entrance to the district until she spotted Phantom's pale head amongst the crowd.

"There you are," she said, weaving her way through the crowd and over to him. "I had an idea, and I wanted to run it past you before I do anything about."

"Yeah? What is it?" Phantom asked, his violet eyes wide and curious.

"As we are, we stick out amongst the other travelers on the roads," Diana began, mentally sounding out her next words. "A man and a woman who, clearly, are not related stand out too much- there is really no reason for us to be traveling together. People will wonder."

The Orb's sibilant voice crackled out of the bag draped over Phantom's shoulder. _So? What are you getting at?_

Diana sighed. "After much thought, I have concluded that the way we can best fit in is if we act like we're married."

"_What!"_

Phantom's yelp echoed through the streets. Diana blinked, her eyes flickering closed in momentary exasperation- Phantom was obviously not quite so pragmatic as she.

"But why?" he asked once he'd calmed himself down a little. His face was stuck in an expression of mixed confusion, nervousness and strangely, fear. When she noticed this, Diana mentally sighed. At times like these she really hated his damned childishness.

"Because of two reasons," she explained, swallowing her irritation. "One, it's a normal thing, we won't stand out if we act like we're married. And two, the hunters are looking for a princess and a convict, not a peasant couple. I don't really expect them to fall for it, but it will put them off our trail for a while. For this to work, we really need to look like we're in love with each other. Okay?"

_That shouldn't be too difficult,_ the Orb chuckled dryly. _The boy's half in love with you already._

"Am not!" Phantom protested, his face going red. A minute frown creased Diana's brow- this could complicate things if it was true.

_Well, respect and admiration are part of love, aren't they? You clearly respect our Queen, and admire her. Besides, there is more than one type of love._

"We're in public, so you shouldn't be talking," Diana hastily reminded the Orb, carefully noting the peculiar expression on Phantom's face. Was it true? Did he really feel for her in that way?

_My mistake,_ the Orb gracefully said, and the aura of magic that emanated from Phantom's haversack rapidly dwindled to nothing. Diana's serene mask cracked for a moment, now that she was sure the disembodied spirit wasn't borrowing Phantom's senses, and she rolled her eyes.

"Okay, let's just forget about that for a bit," she said, and Phantom nodded, obviously glad for the change of subject. "Now we need to find a way of getting to Monos, and with as little magical assistance as possible. Hunters have very accurate sixth senses. Do you remember how to cloak your magic level?"

Phantom nodded rapidly, gazing reproachfully at her. "Of course! I was top of my class, remember? I'm sure I've told you that before."

Diana allowed a small smile to lift the corners of her lips. "Good. Do it."

Phantom closed his eyes and concentrated, and Diana felt the vast well of his power briefly flicker, before a cacophony of different notes crept into it, blurring the edges and disguising its sheer volume before freezing that way, leaving him surrounded by an aura so small it was almost nonexistent, while around him the patchwork of disguise faded imperceptibly into the background.

Diana nodded, feeling uncomfortably like a teacher, and cloaked her own well of power. "The reason I asked you to meet me here was because for us, the fastest way of getting to Monos is by ship. That said, who do you think we need to find?"

"Ship's captain?" Phantom guessed. Diana nodded.

"Exactly. Over there," she whispered, and gently guided Phantom over to the tough-looking woman who was watching the grunts load the bales onto the ship.

The woman looked up as they approached, and Diana caught her eye, tentatively smiling. The woman blinked, and smiled back.

"Now what c'n I do to help you?" she asked, straightening to look Phantom in the eyes. The ex-prisoner blinked- she was almost taller than he was, and heavier-set to boot.

"Does your ship take passengers?" Phantom asked, his eyes wide and curious. The woman raised an eyebrow at him, obviously recognising his heavy Caldean accent. Diana bit her lip in apprehension. If this woman even had the slightest inkling of what was going on, they were as good as dead.

"Well, yeah, but we're headin' to Monos," the woman said off-handedly, scratching at her nose with a grimy fingernail. "I'll warn ye, it'll cost a fair bit."

"We have money," Diana interjected demurely, the picture of a perfect wife. "And ARMs."

"ARMs? You mean you're a fighter?" the captain asked Phantom, obviously surprised. "You know, we could use another guard with us. Pirates've been pretty active around here lately."

Phantom looked at Diana hopefully. She smiled, and clutched possessively at his arm.

"Oh, my husband's very good at fighting," she informed the captain, covertly kicking Phantom's heel when she felt him draw breath to speak. "Any pirates dumb enough to cross him would be dead before they knew it!"

And she giggled, perfecting the image of a brainless small-town woman, of the type she knew educated and worldly-wise women looked down on.

The captain sighed, looking archly at Phantom. "So, how 'bout it? I'll pay ye five hundred pewter now, and five hundred when we dock at Graeae, if ye accept."

"Good deal," Diana whispered, grateful that the captain hadn't asked too many difficult questions. Phantom grinned, taking her approval for permission.

"Deal!" he said happily. The captain grinned as well, before spitting on the palm of her hand and holding it out for Phantom to shake. Diana looked away, clenching her jaw as Phantom copied the gesture. _So_ uncivilized…

Thirty minutes later they had installed their meager possessions in a small room in the stern of the ship- or rather, Diana had, the captain was still busy showing Phantom around the ship. The Orb's sack was safely stowed in a small chest of drawers that was the only storage in the cabin, their ARMs were hidden in various pockets and in the lining of Diana's own haversack, and their money was in a small purse Diana had hung about her neck, comfortably weighted by the five hundred-pewter pieces the captain had paid Phantom as soon as they set foot on her ship. There was only one bed in the room, but it was wide enough that two people could sleep on it without getting too close together. Diana gazed at the rough woollen sheets, and sighed. It was a far cry from the elegant cotton and silks of Caldea's palace, but it would have to do for now.

The floor of the cabin tilted, and Diana fought to regain her balance, hating the waves that beat against the hull of the ship. The weather had obviously packed in since she had been below decks.

She staggered over to the not-quite-double bed, and sprawled onto the covers, wrinkling her nose at the musty smell that clung to the sheets. Still, it'd have to do. This would be their home for the next few weeks.

The ship lurched again, and Diana clutched at the sheets, feeling the contents of her stomach slosh and roll about. An odd feeling settled in her belly, and amid dawning horror, she realized what it must be.

Great. She'd been on the boat for less than an hour, and she was already seasick.

_^*^_

In the grand scheme of things, Monos was relatively close to MAR Heaven. It was a two-week journey from Acalupa to Graeae, with only the threat of pirates and the occasional storm sweeping down from the cold northern seas to impede their progress.

To Diana, however, even the first three days seemed to take an eternity. She spent her time huddled up in the bed, moaning incomprehensibly to herself and occasionally talking to the Orb, which seemed too amused altogether about the whole situation. Phantom would drop in whenever he had free time, often with a hunk of dry bread or a ship's biscuit that he would offer to Diana. She refused them all, of course- the bread was generally rock-hard, and once she'd sworn she had seen a weevil poking its head out of one of the biscuits Phantom had left for her. A sight like that could put a woman off anything.

Once, the ship's captain had dropped in to see her. She hadn't seemed too impressed with Diana's 'poor little merchant girl' act, but she had stayed for a few minutes, telling Diana about the voyage so far, before a sudden squall had blown up and she had left to help her sailors keep the ship on course.

On the fourth day she woke to an almost absolute stillness. Phantom was sprawled beside her, arms askew and hanging over the side of the mattress. He must have arrived some time while she was asleep.

Gently, she propped herself up on her hands, and licked her dry lips, staring around the small, bare cabin. Reaching over Phantom for the water canteen that stood on the shelf unit beside the bed, she dragged the cork out of the neck and thirstily guzzled the cool liquid, disregarding the stray drops that fell onto the bed.

"Ah."

Recorking the canteen, she wiped her mouth and sighed. The seasickness seemed to have retreated for now.

Beside her, Phantom stirred, mumbling something in his sleep. Diana's gaze flickered towards him, and she sighed. What she really wanted was a breath of fresh air, but how was she supposed to get past him without waking him up?

The answer came in the form of one of the sailors, a woman with hair the colour of the sea. Peeking inside the cabin, she smiled in greeting as she noticed Diana watching her.

"So you're awake," she whispered, stepping inside with barely a creak of floorboards. "Do you want some fresh air? It's beautiful out there today, even Cap'n says so."

"I would love some," Diana replied, instantly liking the other woman's manner. "Could you help me get up? Only I don't want to wake Tom."

The sailor smiled amusedly. "I doubt anything you do could wake him up. He completely tired himself out yesterday." She paused, and then added, "That squall was a bad one." She extended an arm, smiling honestly, and Diana noticed her eyes were the same shade of calm, briny blue-green as her hair.

"You're telling me," Diana agreed, carefully taking hold of the sailor's arm and somehow slithering over Phantom's body. He slept on peacefully all through it.

"Sleeping like a baby," the sailor woman chuckled. "By the way, I'm Alma, ex-captain and now fighter-for-hire. No need to introduce yourself, Diana, we already know who you are."

"You do?" Diana feigned nonchalance, though her heart was suddenly hammering against her ribcage in fear. How much had Phantom told them?

"Diana Celtedris, daughter of a Yudaril merchant house and Tom's new wife, correct?" Alma asked, her manner casual and half-joking. Diana smiled in relief, laughing quietly.

"Yes. I should have known he'd be talking about me," she said. "Which way to freedom?"

"Follow me," Alma said, striding confidently out into the hold. "Freedom's about right, it smells like puke in here."

It was almost completely calm out of the deck. A weak breeze filled the sails, just enough to keep the ship moving through the water. The sky was a brilliant blue dome, paling near the horizon and dark and sapphire-bright directly overhead, and the sun beat down from above the eastern horizon, bathing the ocean in its warmth. Creaks sounded, and the few sailors active on deck were having a friendly argument, judging by the amicable insults flying around the ship.

Diana took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of salt and brine. It was a smell close to her own heart- she had many memories of flying over the seas surrounding Caldea, swooping close to the waves and riding high on the air currents above the sparkling water.

As Alma left to join in the argument, Diana wandered over to the side, and leant on the wooden railing, gazing into the depths of the ocean below. Sunlight glinted off the little wavelets that lapped against the hull, and the little noises they made sank into the folds of Diana's memory.

Suddenly, a raucous screech sounded, almost right beside Diana's ear, and she twitched in shock, turning to stare at the enormous, malevolent, evil-looking bird that had landed on the railing perhaps a yard away.

"What in the world…?"

The bird cocked its head, fixing one beady yellow eye on her, and let out another unearthly screech.

Diana began to think that perhaps it wasn't quite so peaceful out here after all.

_^*^_

Almost a week later, the little ship sailed into the vast natural harbor at Graeae, capital city of Monos. And as big as Diana had thought Acalupa was, Graeae simply dwarfed it. The entire city was enclosed in a gigantic crater, twenty-three miles across from rim to rim. Part of the crater rim had collapsed at some stage, allowing the sea to come flooding in, and around the new shoreline, the city had built up gradually, as fishing villages grew and merged to form one gigantic metropolis. The sky overhead was an intense, bright summer blue, and the surrounding hills were burnished gold with wheat crops and dry grass.

A brisk wind filling the sails, the ship skipped into the port, tying up at a stone wharf that had a feeling of immense age about it. Phantom and Alma said their goodbyes- the two guards had formed a genuine friendship during their time on the ship, and Diana knew that Phantom would be sad to see her go.

But Diana herself, she would be glad to see the back of Alma. She had started out liking the sailor, but as time went by, and Phantom became more and more attached to the ocean woman, she began to realize that Alma's very existence was very dangerous indeed. Phantom was getting more powerful by the day, though none but Diana had noticed, and the admiration and fondness that underlay most of his interactions with her was becoming close to the way Phantom treated Diana herself.

And that was not good. Diana had some experience with dual loyalties, and they had never ended well. Besides, if this was allowed to go on for much longer, Alma might someday replace Diana in Phantom's affections. Diana found this thought unbearable. Phantom was the core around which she had woven her plan, without him it would come crashing down around her ears. If, for some reason, Phantom were to decide he wanted to stay with Alma, Diana would either have to recruit the woman or kill her, neither of which she wanted to do. So this separation was best for them all, in the long run.

Phantom wasn't taking it too well though. He was quieter than normal, as they trudged through the cobbled streets of downtown Graeae, tall mud-brick houses casting shadows everywhere they went. Executing pickpocket skills an urchin acquaintance had taught her once, Diana filched a pair of steamed buns from a streetside stall, giving one to Phantom in an effort to distract him from wallowing in his despair. He barely looked at it.

After an hour or so of silence, Diana lost patience. She dragged him over to the side of the road and sat down, glancing out across the blue harbor far below as she tugged on his cloak, urging him to sit down beside her. Silently, he complied.

"Listen, Phantom, I know you miss her, but it couldn't be helped," she said, snapping her fingers in front of her face when he failed to pay attention to her. "She had a ship to catch, and we have a world to see. Our paths separated, it was inevitable. But that doesn't mean you'll never see her again."

That got Phantom's attention. "You think I might meet her again?"

Diana shrugged, wondering how on earth the man could be so simple. "It's entirely possible. If you keep a watch on port cities- Acalupa, Ebrel, Sarsinine- she's bound to turn up there again some day. You really like her, don't you?"

"She's interesting," Phantom said simply. "She knows things, and she's nice, and she helps me out. What's not to like?"

"But underneath all those things, what does she feel like?" Diana asked, her suspicions aroused once more. Phantom looked at her oddly, and sighed.

"Nice, I guess. I just can't describe her any other way. Or comfortable." He blinked, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Yes, that's it! Comfortable! Why do you want to know, anyway?"

Diana shook her head, smiling. "Just vague curiosity. I've never had a friend I could describe in such a way."

"Really?" Phantom asked, wide-eyed. "But you're a princess."

"Just because I _was_ a princess doesn't mean I had lots of friends," Diana said, emphasizing the past tense. "Being royalty is a lot harder than people think it is. You can never trust anyone."

"So that's why you look so lonely," Phantom mused, staring off into the azure distance. Diana looked at him sharply.

"I look… lonely?" she asked, pausing a little out of surprise. Phantom nodded.

"Yeah… You're distant, and cold and calculating, and I've never seen you really smile, like a warm or happy smile, it's always kind of detached. Your eyes never change. It's like you've locked yourself away in a cell, and you're driving yourself distantly from in that cell." He paused, and added, "Does that make sense?"

Diana nodded slowly, a strange discomfort creeping through her bones. No-one had ever seen through her so deeply.

She took a breath to reply, but a sudden drumbeat cut her off. The people in the street scattered, pressing themselves to the walls of the houses and tripping over the gutters in their haste to get away. Diana stood up, pressing forward in the crowd, wondering what was going on, and Phantom followed, frowning. The drumbeats were louder now, and heads were turning, gazing up the hill with identical expressions on their faces.

Expressions of fear.

Figures were coming into view now, a long parade of people, with drummers to the fore of the procession, and white-coated people behind them, before a knot of black-clad figures and another few rows of white-coats.

"Executions," Diana heard someone in the crowd whisper.

The drummers were walking past, huge instruments sending reverberations through the ground and into Diana's bones. They were dressed in finery, red silk shirts and long, brocaded trousers, shiny black leather shoes studded with metal covering their feet. Their giant drums, almost twice as large as they were, were strapped to their chests, and they beat them with felt-tipped batons, the sound they produced so loud Diana wondered why they weren't deaf already.

The white-cloaked figures behind the drummers exuded such an air of deadly efficiency that Diana instinctively drew back. They wore white from head to foot, starting with the peaked caps that, Diana remembered, signified priests in Monos' ruling religion, and ending with white silk slippers peeking out from the hems of their baggy white trousers. Their white cloaks fluttered out behind them in the brisk sea breeze, and their faces, regardless of skin color, were powdered in white chalk-dust, their eyes lined in red henna. They were a fearsome sight to behold.

But the dark knot of humanity behind them was more piteous than anything. Chained, beaten and broken to a man, they moved in shuffling steps, wearing nothing but rags wrapped around their hips and coal dust and animal fat smeared liberally over their emaciated bodies. There was one poor wretch among them who couldn't have been any older than thirteen, hobbling along on a broken foot while the priests behind them watched, gazes sharp and pitiless.

"I can't watch this anymore," Phantom said, as one of the prisoners stumbled and fell, priests converging around him like flies to a carcass. "Diana, how can this happen? They don't need to beat him to death right there…" His voice trailed off as the prisoner's yelps became audible over the drumbeat.

Diana forced herself to watch until the procession had gone completely past, her hands clenched and nails digging into her palms. She had expected the silent, fearful aura to linger well after the drumbeats were gone from the air, but no- barely five minutes passed before the street was as busy and carefree as before. People wandered along again, only this time, almost automatically, they avoided the patch of dark, glistening blood on the cobblestones.

_So they just forget all about what just happened as soon as they can't see it anymore? _Diana thought, outraged. _Sheep. Then they deserve to be caged as they are._

Humanity truly was rotten.

_^*^_

Monos' countryside had a peaceful aura, gilded with summer and the hot, still air. The grassy, golden hills were neatly divided into paddocks, in which sheep, horses, goats and cattle grazed, oblivious to the travelers passing by on the pothole-filled and rutted road. Occasionally, there would be a round, thatched farmhouse, chickens and ducks clucking around its lawns and lean, scruffy farm cats prowling through the shadows in search of their next meal. The sky was marvelously blue, and high above the horizon, the blazing sun beat down on the earth.

One hot day maybe a week after they had left the port city, Diana and Phantom arrived in a little town near the Rangian border. It was high noon, and not a single soul could be seen amongst the mud-brick houses. There was a poster on the crossbeam of the archway into the town, with bold letters in Monos' script slashed into the paper. Diana happened to glance at it, and while she couldn't read it, she recognized the magisterial seal in wax at the top of the page.

_I wish I knew what that said,_ she thought to herself. _For all we know, it could be a 'no trespassing' notice. Maybe that's why no-one's here._

"Hey, look!" Phantom exclaimed suddenly, making Diana jump nervously. "There's a squirrel!"

Diana looked where he was pointing, and saw a small, gray, fluffy thing huddled near an alleyway. It didn't look like a squirrel to her, but Tom hadn't seen one in ten or more years, so he could be forgiven his mistake.

But she was just about to smile, and look away, when something black fluttered inside the alleyway, and her heart leapt into her chest.

_A hunter!?_

She dashed forward into the alley, chasing the elusive black flicker deeper into the shadows. Phantom yelped, thinking he was getting left behind, and ran after her, knocking over something that clanged loudly in his rush. Bells suddenly went off, ringing loudly through the town, so loudly that Diana skidded to a halt, looking wildly about her. Those didn't sound like the worship-bells she had heard in Graeae- no, these were more like prison-bells, almost like the ones that had rung during the flight from Caldea…

Suddenly, people filled the alley ahead of her. Diana tensed in fear, stepping back into a guarded stance- she would kill these people if she had to. But then, amongst the crowd, she noticed women and children, even babies in their mothers' arms. Her eyes narrowed- what was going on?

"Lestavan?" A light, female voice asked, and a woman stepped forward from the crowd, her face shadowed by the dark blue hood most women seemed to be wearing. Diana nodded, for want of a simpler answer.

"Come with us. We will hide you." The woman gestured, and a girl stepped forward, offering Diana a headscarf. She kept her gaze downcast, as though she was afraid of meeting Diana's gaze.

Diana's eyes narrowed in confusion. What was going on? She took the scarf, and inexpertly knotted it around her head, braiding the ends into her hair and tucking the thick mass underneath her short cloak, as the crowd around her began to disperse into the houses around the alley.

"Come with me," the first woman said, smiling as she turned to walk off up the alley. "We shall disappear into thin air."

Diana was about to refuse, wondering what on earth was happening, but a harsh shout from somewhere behind her sparked her into moving, following the woman first into one alley, then another, and finally under an ornate arch that, inexplicably, took her out into bright sunlight.

"What the…" Diana asked, trailing off as she slowly turned around, her breath catching in surprise as she spotted the town again, several hundred yards down the hillside from where she was standing. She could still hear the bells going, and this time, when she looked, the streets were scurrying with white-cloaked figures.

Priests.

Diana swallowed, realizing how close she had come to occupying a crucifix, before a panic suddenly constricted around her heart. Where was Phantom?!

"Phantom! Where is he?" she urgently asked, turning to the woman. "The man who was following me! What happened to him?"

The woman smiled mysteriously. "He comes now. My apprentice took care of him. See?" She nodded down the hillside, to where two dark figures were climbing the slope, looking fearfully back at the town. Diana recognized Phantom's bright silvery hair, and relief flooded through her veins.

He's safe.

"So, what were you chasing?" the woman asked, as Diana gathered her wits about her. "You looked like a bat out of hell."

"Hunters," Diana said shortly, and changed the subject. She didn't want to think about being chased, not now she had escaped being executed by the skin of her teeth. "What sort of ARM was that? How did you teleport us up here?"

The woman smiled again. She was really beginning to infuriate Diana. "Not all magic is confined to ARMs, Lestavan. You have heard of Leirivane nature-magic, have you not? Serenese patternmaking? I am one of Monos' own mages, specializing in gateways. I simply opened a gate."

"Then why did you rescue me?" This woman was turning Diana's beliefs on their heads. _Why didn't she simply leave me, like the rest of this rotten country would have?_

"Because murder is murder, and I will not have it in my town. Those priests and their bloodthirsty god may think that they own the souls of people, but I own their hearts, and I won't let them get away with my followers, whose protection is owed by me." The woman gestured emphatically as she spoke; she really believed in what she was saying.

_Ah. Selfish reasons, ultimately,_ Diana thought, but a little voice in the back of her head pointed out, _well, aren't your reasons for wanting to destroy the world just as selfish? _

_Shut up._

It continued. _Selfish, selfish, selfish. Greedy. That's what we all are. That's why you want those pretty clothes, jewels, delicacies. _ARMs.

_Shut up shut up shut up!_

_Because your parents were cold, and made you cold, and left you with a gaping hole in your heart, you want to fill it up. Selfish. _

_SHUT UP!!_

"Diana!!"

Phantom's voice shook her out of her ugly mental argument, and she blinked, and focused her eyes on his violet orbs. He looked frightened, but exhilarated, and enjoyment was plainly obvious in his smile.

"Are you okay?" he asked, tentatively laying a warm hand on her shoulder. Diana blinked again- since when did that touch comfort her?- and nodded.

"I am fine," she said evenly, her heartbeat slowing down to normal.

"Well, that's good, because you're going to need to get out of here," the woman said, interrupting Phantom's next words. "Go south, and cross the border. At least the Rangians are so occupied with their own troubles that they don't feel the need to create any more."

Diana looked at her, and with the sunlight shining onto the woman's face, she noticed that both her eyes were clouded and grey. _She's blind,_ she realized.

"Yeah, that's what we were planning, anyway," Phantom said good-naturedly. "Thank you for helping us out."

"No problem," The woman said jovially, nodding to her stony-faced apprentice as she set off back down the hill, and suddenly disappeared into thin air. Diana squinted, fancying she could see a gateway of sorts in the air where the woman had vanished. When she looked back, the apprentice had gone as well, and Phantom was setting off around the hillside.

"Come on!" You don't wanna be left behind!" he called back jovially. Diana took one last look at the town, at the spire rearing up above the houses, bells ringing, and turned away, a sick feeling in her stomach.

They crossed the border into Rangia at a run, neither of them wanting to waste time and energy in looking back to see if they were being followed.

_^*^_

Some weeks later, as the summer faded and the azure of the sky only seemed to get deeper, Diana and Phantom were traveling in the heart of the blasted Rangian countryside, seeing first-hand the effects of civil war. Corpses littered the sides of the road in places, great fields torn up and stinking with rotten bodies, and woodlands burnt and smoking, faraway fires belching smoke into the atmosphere.

But occasionally, there would be an islet of peace, of golden grass and yellow-leafed trees, birds singing in their branches. Some of these areas stretched for days along the roadside, and Diana began to think that they were out of the war zone, but then, the desolation would start anew. The war was everywhere.

It was in one of these peaceful zones that Phantom brought up the question Diana was dreading.

"We're going to start a war," he said one morning, as they wandered underneath a great forest, twigs on the road snapping underfoot. "So what makes us different from the people who started this war?"

Diana had had to think for a long time to come up with an answer that satisfied her. The Orb stayed silent; perhaps it wanted them to find the answer for themselves? A sigh gusted out through her lips.

"We're not different," she said at last. "They are fighting for control of a country- we are fighting for the control of the whole world. That's all it really is- control."

Phantom continued, "Because I was thinking, in Monos, that a lot of what they were doing over there was evil, but what they thought they were doing it for was good. Is that confusing? They were killing people, but it was for justice, or peace, or unity, or whatever. It seemed like even good people were doing bad things."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Diana quoted, and felt even more miserable than before.

Phantom gazed seriously at her, and then his handsome face contorted into a mask of anger. "I just want to _kill,"_ he seethed, his hands bunching into fists as he looked down at the ground. "If everyone can become evil, then I want to get rid of everyone before they have the chance to, and leave this world as untouched as it is here! I'll even kill myself if I have to, at the very end! I don't want humans to continue destroying everything. The Orb is right, humans are rotten beyond repair." He let out a gusty sigh, and loosened his hands, stretching the muscles and gazing up into the bright blue sky.

"I hate this world."

Diana closed her eyes, fatigue suddenly overwhelming her. "Yes," she agreed, walking forward blindly, listening to the crackle of the fallen leaves under her feet. "Destroy civilization, and nature will heal itself. But destroy nature, and nothing will ever exist again. Nature is not to blame for the human mistake, humans themselves are. Therefore we cut out the problem at the roots by exterminating the world of humans, and once that is done, the new world can live in harmony."

She sighed, and leaned forward, almost tripping over a protruding rock and catching herself just in time. "I only wonder if it is possible."

_It is possible,_ the Orb interjected, in the sharpest tone she had ever heard it use. _It doesn't matter if it takes a hundred years. You only have to have the will to make it happen, and like moths to a candle-flame, believers will flock to you. Almost like a religion, if you will. I find it amusing, somehow, that humankind will fall to members of its own race. Torn apart from the inside. That is poetic justice for a species so bent on killing itself._

Diana opened her eyes, straightening slightly. "Yes," she said, and ahead of her, Phantom's back straightened too.

"Then that is what we fight for. An end."

_^*^_

They spent that night in an abandoned barn, huddled together on what straw was left in the loft and listening to the strange sounds of the Rangian night. Phantom slept fitfully, shivering and gasping in his sleep. Diana tiredly guessed he was dreaming about his time in the Palace's dungeons. The pale bluish light of the full moon cast eerie shadows through the broken roof, and Diana spent half the night twitching when the breezes made the dangling thatch sway. She finally drifted into slumber sometime before dawn, when a yellowish tinge was just beginning to color the horizon, and dreamed a hellish dream.

_It was night, wherever it was. Diana was flying, that much was certain, but the picture her eyes gave her was unsure and fuzzy, like a faint memory of a scene long past. The sky was dark, and the land far beneath her was streaked with patches of silver and green so dark it was almost black. There was a faint sound in her ears, a roaring, like that of a beach in a storm, and a strange unearthly call that occasionally split the cold night air. Suddenly, her vision sharpened, as did her memory, and Diana recognized the scene. _

_She was flying high above the Caldean wilderness, Aeros Staff stretched out in her hand as its magic shot her like an arrow through the air. The slipstream dragged at her heavy woolen nightdress, and the full summer moon was bright in her eyes. High cliffs in the distance cast jagged shadows on the silver-washed landscape, trees lit by moonlight, and the wind and the calls of nocturnal creatures were the only sounds. _

_Dorothy raced after her, straddled nervously on her new broomstick-shaped ARM- the Zephyrus Broom, if Diana had heard correctly. She had only been learning to fly for several weeks, and already she was able to keep up with Diana, one of the best young fliers in the Noble Academy- if only for a little while. This flight was to be a last excursion with her sister, before Diana was to visit the palace for a few days with the heirs of several other noble families, so that the Great Elder could meet the new generation. Dorothy had always hated being left alone, and this was Diana's way of apologizing for her absence. _

"_Sis, can we land for a bit?" her little sister's plaintive voice begged, the sound ripped away by the winds that blew hard at this altitude, and Diana smiled to herself, having been wondering when her famous stubbornness would wear out. She glanced down at the forest-clad plains far beneath them, searching for a place that wouldn't be too hard for a novice to land on, and found in a giant old redwood whose crown soared far above the canopy of pines._

"_How's that?" she called back to Dorothy, gesturing at the redwood and swooping downward to circle the tip of its trunk. Dorothy darted after her, long pink braids fluttering in the winds as she looked for a branch thick enough to land on. "Can you land?"_

"_Of course!" Dorothy protested, like she did every time she thought Diana was showing doubt in her abilities, but this time there was something forced about her fierce words. Diana watched as she found a branch she liked the look of, protruding from the redwood's trunk several yards above the canopy of the pines, and so wide in girth that two men couldn't have put their arms around it and touched hands. Dorothy hovered above the branch, and shifted nervously on the Zephyrus Broom- intimidated, it seemed, by the impressive distance between the branch and the ground._

_Diana smiled in amusement and pride, and skillfully swept over to the branch, years of practice making her movements elegant and graceful. Dorothy glanced over at her, her small face serious, and set her jaw determinedly._

"_Don't say it," she warned, her childish voice entirely solemn. "I can do it." And then she hitched one leg over the broom, carefully lowering herself to the rough bark, and let a smile take over her features as her bare toes brushed against the branch. Diana clapped, then abruptly stopped as Dorothy glared petulantly at her, a proud smile tugging at her lips. _

"_Well done. Your teachers must be proud," she commented as Dorothy lightly stepped down onto the branch. "So, I want you to be good when I go up to the Palace tomorrow, okay? Ezra and the dogs will keep you company until I get back. Hey, be careful there!" she added as her sister stumbled momentarily, and instinctively clutched at her small hand. _

_But Dorothy skilfully regained her balance on her own, and scampered along the branch, ignoring the words that usually would have her indignantly protesting that she was just as skilled as anyone else at tree-climbing. Diana frowned, carefully balancing on the rough bark as she withdrew her magic from the Aeros Staff._

"_Dorothy, what's wrong?" she asked, setting the now-dormant Staff down on the branch beside her and carefully eyeing her sister as she crouched further up the branch, gazing with troubled eyes down at the verdant canopy far below. "Did one of your friends say something mean to you?" _

Dorothy rocked back and forth on the branch, her round puppy-eyes frowning in babyish rebellion. "I don't want you to go, sis," she said at last, pouting plaintively up at her sister.

"_Go where?" Diana asked, perplexed. "I'm not going to be at the Palace long, just a couple of days. You've never minded before."_

"_I don't want you to go," Dorothy repeated, shifting her free hand to clutch at Diana's skirts. "If you do, you'll never come back." She seemed to be looking past Diana, her eyes glazed and faraway as if she saw something her sister did not. _

_Hairs rose on the back of Diana's neck. "I won't go," she promised, covering Dorothy's small hand with hers. _

_Dorothy's eyes, huge in the moonlight, turned to stare accusingly at her. "But you did," she said, and suddenly her voice was terrible, dark and ugly like a hell-child, and her small body was shifting, becoming a snake with two huge fangs, glistening with poison and poised to strike at Diana. The silver moon went out like a candle flame behind the gargantuan being, and the dark seeped into her bones like some deadly poison-_

-And then she woke up.

It was quiet in the barn, barring the sound of her terrified breathing. Dawn was long past, and the gentle trilling of birds in the overgrown hedgerows betrayed peace in the blasted countryside. Phantom slept on beside her, his hands flopping into a puddle of morning sun, and the shadows of the night had given way to the bright light of day. Diana stared, unseeing, at the blue sky visible through the hole in the roof, catching her breath as her shoulders shook with a mix of adrenaline and self-loathing.

Caldea's brand of magic didn't place much importance on dreams, and Diana had been brought up to disregard them as mere facets of imagination. But somehow, with emphatic certainty, one fact brought by this dream was sure in Diana's mind. She knew, beyond all doubt, that she would die by Dorothy's hand.

A strange smile crept onto her face, her full lips quirked up at the corners, and she chuckled, quietly so as not to wake Phantom. But in her heart, there was no emotion except sadness.

There was a certain irony to it, really. She was fighting to rid the world of those evil, rotten beings who would desecrate, steal, dishonor and murder, and yet her actions had led to the seeds of the exact same evil being planted in her baby sister's soul.

Dorothy would become a killer because of her.

_^*^_

The next evening, by a complete accident, they came face-to-face with the Rangian rebels. Diana had gone a little way into the forest to relieve herself, and when she came back out, Phantom was all but invisible in the middle of a knot of tall, heavily muscled soldier-types, all painted up and dressed in armor, ready for war.

Stifling a gasp, she ducked back under the cover of the scrub, and fumbled in her belt-purse for her Telepath Bow ARM, a strange sort of Dimension ARM that would let her speak directly to Phantom's mind. It was silver, the best sort of metal there was for concentrating magic, and she barely had to pump any of her power into it before Phantom's thoughts crackled to life in her ears.

_Where is she? She said she'd be back soon… These guys smell _really_ bad…_

Gently, she pushed a part of her presence into Phantom's mind, and felt rather than saw his muscles tense just the tiniest bit.

_Good, don't let them know I'm around. Who are they?_

_Rebels,_ Phantom's thoughts hesitatingly told her. _They want me to join them. I don't have to, do I? Only they feel really, really… wrong. I don't want to join them, I want to stay with you and cleanse the world._

Diana smiled benevolently, though Phantom couldn't see it. _Do whatever you want,_ she thought. _Did they say where they were from?_

_East a little way, I heard one of them say. Hey, I'm a poet! Diana, they're threatening me now. They want to kill me._

_Ah. _Diana frowned, deep in thought. _Well, you could probably defeat all of them on your own now, you know. I'll show myself now, and you can take advantage of the confusion and escape. It should be-_

_No, wait! They're gonna take me back to their village and execute me there, they say._

Diana blinked in surprise._ Why wait until we get there?_

Phantom's mental voice sounded taken aback. _You don't see it? Because if we wait, we can pick up more supplies and stuff before we go. And maybe we can cleanse the village too, while we're there._

A wide smile graced Diana's mouth. _Thinking like a true conqueror now, are we? The Orb would be proud._

Innocent pride radiated from Phantom's mind like light from the sun. _Thank you!_ he thought, happiness flooding into Diana's mind before she shut off the link and put the Telepath Bow back into her belt-purse.

The undergrowth rustled just slightly as she activated the Aeros Staff, and leapt into the air, swooping out into the open sky between a pair of gnarled and twisted branches. She flew high above the road, and soon the party of soldiers moved off eastwards, leaving the dirt road and following a wide track through the scrubland. Diana made sure to keep herself directly below the sun, so that even if one of the soldiers looked up, her shape would be lost in the glare.

Perhaps an hour passed before she realized that what she had thought were a group of strangely-shaped bushes, were, in fact, the huts of the village. She waited until the soldiers had broken into a run towards the houses, dragging Phantom along with them, and then swooped down to land under the cover of the scrub.

Then it all went wrong.

The village's original occupants must have been left alive when the rebels had captured it, because just as Phantom was about to break free and activate his ARM, a small child ran out in front of the group, and was promptly grabbed by one of the soldiers.

"Whose brat is this?" he called out languidly, holding the struggling child aloft by one of its arms. "You've gotta teach your brats better manners here, otherwise they might get themselves killed."

A woman raced out of one of the huts, gasped, and froze when she saw the predicament her child was in. The soldier smirked, and pulled one of his many knives out of its sheath, holding the point dangerously close to the screaming child's neck.

Diana took a deep breath, rage boiling in her veins as the woman started to plead hysterically for her child's life. With a tendril of magic, she reactivated the Telepath Bow, and told Phantom, _Do it now. I'll get the man with the kid, you take care of all the other soldiers. _

Phantom didn't need to be told twice. As Diana took to the air, Aeros Staff in hand, he activated his dragon Guardian, materializing it right on top of several soldiers and squashing them flat underneath it's formidable weight.

Diana ignored the sudden screams, and sent a deadly blast of air towards the soldier with the child. He turned his head and stared at her in shock as his body fell apart, oozing blood. An arrow shot past her shoulder, and she jinked in midair and blasted the knot of archers at the fringe of the village.

A sudden shadow fell across her, and Diana looked up into the massive, gnarled face of Lemures. Her eyes widened in shock- at the other end of the village Dead Dragon was still wreaking havoc- and she hurriedly found Phantom, standing immobile where the soldiers had left him, his face twisted into a rictus of rage as his magic wove two different patterns in the air around him.

_Two guardians… Oh gods above, he's using two guardians at the same time!!_

Horrible crunching sounds filled the air, and Diana retreated higher into the sky, suddenly realizing that Phantom was out of control- he was set on destroying the world and every rotten thing it held, and nothing was going to be able to stop him until he ran out of magic. Diana's own power was suddenly dwarfed by his veritable ocean of magic.

_When did that happen?_ she asked herself, her mind numb with the shock. _When did he get so powerful? No one since the Fifth Elder has been able to manipulate two guardians at once, it takes too much concentration! And certainly not two such powerful guardians as those two…!_

At last, the two massive figures wavered and dissipated, and Diana swooped down to land in the middle of what had been the village market-place. Now, it was desolate and quiet, save for the screams of a young boy as he wandered through the blasted village. Barely a single hut was left standing- Lemures and Dead Dragon had simply crushed the rest in their rampage. Dead and broken bodies littered the ground.

Hardening her mind to the destruction around her- she'd have to get used to it if she wanted to destroy the world, after all- Diana strode down the avenue that led back to Phantom, spotting him slumped and dead to the world amongst the corpses of the soldiers. She hurried over to him, and quickly checked his pulse, reassuring herself at the steady beat of his heart. Then, hooking his arm around her shoulders, she effortfully stood up, reactivating the Aeros Staff. She quickly checked the street behind her for enemies, and froze- there was a teenage girl standing there, silently watching her efforts.

The girl met her eyes, and Diana almost shivered. There was a deadness in those dark orbs that matched her own eyes.

"What do you want?' she asked at last, careful not to betray any hostile notes in her voice.

The girl took a couple of steps forward, her dusky brown skin ashy under its pigment. "I want to thank you," she said, her voice too steady to be genuine. She was afraid, Diana realized, absolutely terrified to death.

"For what?" Diana asked, wondering what she and Phantom could possibly be thanked for.

"For destroying my life," the girl said cryptically, before her eyes fluttered shut, and she continued forward a few steps before swaying and grabbing hold of Diana's wrist in an effort to keep herself upright. "Please… take me with you. I'll die if I stay here."

"We can't," Diana told her, slowly shaking her head. "We can't afford a tagalong."

"I can be useful," the girl said, a pleading note entering her voice as she tried to lift her head and meet Diana's gaze. "I know how to hunt… I can fight, if you need me to, just please… take me with you…" She trailed off then, as her knees buckled and she collapsed against Diana, who fought to keep herself standing with the weight of two people resting on her.

"Ha…" the girl said, smiling oddly as she suddenly turned her head, staring back along the road. Diana looked at where her gaze was directed- a soldier that was miraculously alive, sitting up and leveling a crossbow directly at her heart…

Time stopped. Diana's breath hitched in her chest- she couldn't breathe, this was the _end…_

Andata.

Magic flowed. Diana's vision sharpened, magnified a hundred times, and she saw the soldier's arrow leave his bow slowly, as if it traveled through water instead of air-

-_a secluded little cottage, tucked several yards back from the edge of a tall cliff above the ocean-_

-and then her vision went black.

The last thing she remembered was pain.

_^*^_

"…gonna wake up anytime soon."

Diana groaned, proving the faraway speaker wrong. It was a close-run thing though- she didn't feel as if there was any life left in her limbs at all. Her eyes felt gritty and prickly under their lids, and her muscles ached, like she had been ravaged by some sort of wild beast. Underneath the heavy sheets she was covered with, her body was so hot it felt like it was on fire, and as if to add insult to injury, she had no strength to push the covers back.

"Hey, she is awake!"

Diana would have blinked in consternation, had she had the energy. She didn't recognize that young, lively, _female_ voice, that abruptly rose in volume as the mattress bounced. It seemed like there was a child climbing on her bed.

"Hey, watch out, Abigail!"

_Ah._ That was Phantom's voice. A nervous knot loosened in Diana's chest. So the girl was called Abigail?

_I wonder if that's the girl from Rangia?_

"What for?" The girl, Abigail, continued, seemingly ignorant of the fact that she was sitting on Diana's foot. "I'm not hurting her. Isn't that right, lady?"

Very faintly, Diana shook her head.

"See?" Phantom said. "And her name is Diana. If you want to join up with us, you'll have to use it."

"Who cares?" A thump sounded as Abigail jumped off the bed. "You brought me here, so now you have no choice but to look after me. But I guess it is a pretty name. One of the ancient goddesses was called Diana. She was supposed to be the avatar of the moon."

Diana cracked open an eyelid, and peered at the girl now sitting in a chair by the lone window in the room. Her vision was blurry, but she could see enough to recognize the room as the bedroom in Weasel's hut.

_No wonder the sheets are so stuffy,_ she thought, and closed her eyes again. _Being awake really is tiring…_

And amid the quiet chatter, she drifted off to sleep again.

_^*^_

It took almost a week for Diana's strength to fully return. By that time, she was well and truly bored of life in Weasel's bed, where she couldn't escape from Abigail's incessant chatter. The Rangian seemed not to be able to shut up for any stretch of time beyond five minutes.

But through that chatter, Diana came to know the girl she had inadvertently rescued. Abigail was fifteen years old, the daughter of the village's tanner, and had thirteen younger brothers and sisters. She had also just been married to the village's headman, a brute of a man forty years her senior. When she heard that bit of information, Diana suddenly remembered Abigail's words- _"Thank you… for destroying my life."_

_Now I know what she was talking about, _Diana realized.

It was a dull autumn day when she was finally allowed out of the bed. The sun was shining weakly, slowly losing its fight against the gray clouds of winter, and a sharp breeze whistled through cracks in the weatherboards of the house, making bare skin prickle uncomfortably with goosebumps. Diana woke early, and lay in the warm bed, listening to the chirruping of the dawn chorus outside. The creaking of floorboards in the main room betrayed Weasel's presence, but otherwise, the house was quiet.

She looked over to the wicker armchair that stood by the window, stuffing leaking out from its cushions. Abigail was huddled up on it, her eyes twitching under closed lids as she dreamed. Her short, dusky orange hair stuck out in every direction, in the worst tangle Diana had ever seen, and her skinny pigeon-chest rose and fell evenly as she breathed.

Diana's mouth twitched into a small smile as she quietly shifted her blankets off her body. _Good._ Abigail wasn't going to wake up for a long while yet.

Slowly, she made her way out to the main room, where Phantom lay snoring on the couch. Weasel was pottering about the old teak table in the kitchen area, a pan in each hand and little apples slowly ripening on his head. He looked up, and nodded to Diana before going back to his work. Diana nodded back, and slipped out onto the small verandah that stretched along the side of the house, looking out over the sea.

The air was crisp out here, and the sky was pale blue, small clouds along the horizon painted red and gold by sunrise. The trees around the cottage were mostly bare, what few leaves they had shining gold in the light. Diana exhaled, watching her breath turn to steam and drift away, and listening to the song of the lark that was sitting on the little house's gutter.

_Beautiful, is it not? _The Orb said, and Diana started in shock. _This is what the world should be like._

_Yes, _Diana agreed, nodding slowly. She felt the Orb's contentment oozing through her mind.

_You are well now, I trust?_ It asked, though it really didn't need to. _You just made one of the longest jumps through distance ever recorded, did you know? Over a thousand miles. That's very impressive, you know._

_I know, _Diana thought back. _Where have you been?_ The Orb had been silent for weeks now.

_Thinking, and looking over the world, _it answered dispassionately_. I saw a volcano erupt in Teltheiron, and the nobles saving themselves while leaving their underlings to die. In Acalupa, my host was raped and murdered. Her soul now becomes part of me. _

_How did you get to Teltheiron?_ Diana asked, incredulous. _That's hundreds of miles away!_

_I hitched a ride in an albatross' mind. Simple thoughts, but fast fliers. They can feel me behind them, and try to escape from me._

It laughed. _Of course, all their efforts are in vain. I am, in effect, the darkness behind the eyes. Nothing can escape me._

Diana said nothing. In practice, she agreed with the Orb- but sometimes it was just so… _scary._

_You fear me, don't you,_ the Orb stated.

Diana bit her lip, and decided to be honest.

_Yes,_ she said.

Somehow, she felt the Orb smile. _Good, _it said. _Don't stop._

And its presence faded away.

Diana stood on the verandah, and licked her dry lips. Her legs wavered, her strength waning, and she stepped forward and sat down on the rough boards, her feet dangling over the edge. A sudden breeze rattled the trees.

_Don't stop. Why?_

The first rays of the sun peeked over the horizon, light and watery. Diana frowned, and gave up trying to understand the Orb's thoughts.

The door creaked behind her, and soft steps sounded on the verandah. Rubbing his eyes, Phantom sat down beside her.

"G'morning," he mumbled, blinking at the sunlight. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes," Diana said quietly.

"Are you hungry? Weasel's cooking bacon, and it smells really good." Phantom chattered on, trying to fill the cold silence in the air. "Abigail's still snoring. She wants to join us, did you know?

"Is there any particular reason you talk so much?" Diana asked, momentarily losing her patience.

Phantom stopped dead, and grinned sheepishly. "Sorry."

Diana nodded, smiling slightly to show her forgiveness, and turned back to the sunrise.

Silence reigned for a few minutes. The dawn chorus was dying off, as the brilliant reds of sunrise vanished from the sky, replaced by the pale blues of early morning. Birds flitted through the trees, twittering brightly, and high in the sky, streaks of white had begun to appear. Diana could only just hear the quiet whisper of waves against the rocks at the foot of the cliff.

"Can I say something?" Phantom suddenly asked, breaking the silence. Diana inwardly sighed- it was great while it lasted- and nodded.

"Well, we're going to Vestry today," Phantom said, and then grinned again, shaking his head. "That is, me and Abigail are going. We thought we'd better ask you first though."

"You may go," Diana instantly said, jumping at the chance to get out of the house. "I will come with you."

"Great." Phantom's face split into a wide grin, and on complete impulse, he threw his arm around her shoulders and hugged her.

Diana blinked. Phantom was so _warm… _She could really get used to this.

_^*^_

Vestry was one of the most beautiful places Diana had ever seen. It was nestled in a gentle valley between the foothills of a range of mountains, surrounded by a myriad of fields of different colours, and overlooked by a marble outcrop that marked the entrance to the famed underground lake. This late in autumn, it was already covered in a heavy frost, clear, glassy ice adorning everything left outside. It was a Sunday, a market day, and the village square was bustling with farmers and housewives, out for their week's supplies.

Phantom brought them out under the shade of an old cypress tree, deep in the shadow where no-one could see their entrance. The sharp, crisp smell of frozen water was the first thing Diana noticed as they walked out from underneath the conifer's leafy branches.

"It's cold!" Abigail complained almost immediately, wrapping the woolen cloak Weasel had given her tighter around her shoulders. "Cold cold cold cold! Why is it so cold?!"

"Because we're so far north," Diana explained softly. "Winters are more severe here than in Rangia. If you ran around a bit you'd probably warm up faster."

"Well how does that make sense?" Abigail asked, confused. Then she shrugged. "Oh well, who cares? Great! I'm off!" And she was gone before either of them could stop her.

Diana shook her head. "How do you keep up with her?" she asked Phantom, idly gazing around the marketplace. "She's so energetic."

Phantom shrugged. "Dunno. I just let her tire herself out. Weasel said that's what works best with kids like her."

"Weasel's wisdom, eh?"

A stall peddling jewelry caught Diana's eye, and she wandered over to it, Phantom drifting after her like a loyal ghost. The jewels on display were cheap ones, amethyst and quartz with copper and brass trimming, and she soon lost interest, moving on to the next stall, a dairy-seller's cart. Some minutes later, Abigail came skittering over to them, her face dominated by a huge, excited grin.

"Guess what?!" she excitedly exclaimed, hopping madly on the spot. "I saw a duckling hatching! It came out all fluffy and wet!"

"At this time of year?" Phantom asked, frowning. Abigail nodded furiously.

"Weird, huh? Can I go catch one?"

"Why?" Phantom's frown turned mystified.

"Because I want to." Abigail said simply. It was her reason for everything, Diana thought.

"No," she said, hardening her heart as Abigail's face fell comically.

"Why?!" the Rangian teen whined. Diana ignored her, turning back to the jewelry stall, while Phantom grinned gleefully.

"Go annoy the sheep or something," he ordered jokingly. Abigail's grin quickly reappeared.

"Okay!" she exclaimed, and raced off so quickly she appeared to blur.

"If she gets in trouble with the headman, you're taking care of it," Diana told Phantom. It took him a while to realize that she was serious.

Slowly, they made the circuit of the market, drifting down a couple of side lanes in search of more vendors, and somewhere around noon, Diana paid for some cheese and bread buns, and led Phantom over to the little spring that bubbled up out of the ground at the edge of the village.

"Here," she said, tearing a couple of the buns apart and handing one to Phantom as she eyed the crumbly, salty goat-cheese in its linen bag. "Have you seen Abigail lately?"

He shook his head, his mouth full of bread.

Diana sighed. "She's going to miss out on lunch."

Phantom spluttered, spraying bits of chewed-up bread everywhere as he made a strange, groaning noise, rocking forward on his knees with his hands clamped firmly over his mouth.

"What?" Diana asked coldly, glaring at him.

"Sorry!" he choked out, and she realized that the strange grimace on his face was him trying not to laugh. "It's just you really reminded me of one of those old wives being annoyed at her kid, and the mental image really…hehe… made me laugh!"

"Right." Diana couldn't help smiling, the expression on his face was so mirthful.

Lunch continued in much the same fashion,

The burbling spring caught Diana's attention, and she gazed down into the clear water. It was bubbling up from underneath the limestone bones of Vestry, the purest water in the world, so cool and fresh she could almost taste it. She trailed a finger over the surface, but quickly withdrew it- the water was _freezing._

"Alma," Phantom suddenly whispered, his voice low and hushed.

"What?" Diana asked, looking up from the spring. But Phantom completely ignored her, rising to his feet and striding hurriedly across the street, towards a woman who stood alone near the edge of the village. Diana watched, a strange emotion gripping her heart, as he tapped the woman on the shoulder. She half-turned, and, spotting Phantom, froze for a moment, then flung her arms around his shoulders.

Diana turned away, biting her lip. Her heart was aching, and no amount of logic seemed to be able to make it better.

Phantom didn't come home that night.

_^*^_

Jealousy and selfishness went hand in hand, she knew. It made sense, one led to the other. And both were the two great human evils.

Diana was inherently selfish. She knew, she'd heard the whispers, she'd be a fool not to realize it. And to be jealous of Alma for monopolizing Phantom's attention, even when she wasn't around, was something that was inevitable when Phantom had wormed so close to her heart.

But it still didn't make it any easier to accept.

_^*^_

"Isn't he cute?"

The fateful words were spoken in a proud, doting tone, like that of an adoring parent. The expression on Phantom's face was joyous and amused, gazing down at the scruffy child in front of him as he gently pushed his charge forward to meet Diana.

Large, liquid-honey eyes stared up at her, apprehensive yet trusting. Diana blinked. What gender was it again?

"Yes…?" she hazarded, stepping back from the child to stride back to her chair, whose comfortable warmth she had left when Phantom strode back into the room. He had been on an intelligence-gathering mission in Acalupa that afternoon, mingling with the underbelly of the city and finding if there would be any people interested in joining their movement- their revolution, Diana liked to call it. Obviously he had picked up this insanely pretty girl/boy thing somewhere along the way.

"Guys! Guys!" Abigail burst into the cottage then, skidding to a halt as she caught sight of Phantom's new pet. "…The hell is that?"

"M-my name is Rolan." The kid spoke up then, in a high, breathy voice barely louder than a whisper. Abigail stared at it, one eyebrow raised in abject confusion.

"Where'd you come from, eh?" she asked.

"Acalupa!" Phantom cheerfully replied, possessively clutching the kid's shoulder. "Isn't he cute?"

_So it's a boy then,_ Diana thought, sitting back in the chair and picking up her notebook and the stick of graphite she had been using to make a list of potential co-revolutionaries. "So, is anyone interested so far?"

Phantom looked up briefly, and smiled. "Oh yeah! A couple. There's a pair of thieves that are pretty powerful at the moment, both high-ranking in Luberia, and I talked to a fortune-teller in one of the parks, who seems like he agrees. He says he's pretty good, but I couldn't sense his aura at all."

With that short report, Phantom went back to smiling indulgently at the kid, who had gotten bored of standing around by now and wandered into the kitchen area. Diana shook her head, and paused before adding the name 'Rolan' to the shortest list in her book, just after Abigail. Her mouth twisted into an amused smirk.

So we now number four, including women and children. Some revolution.

Still, she had to admit, it was a start.

_^*^_

Some days later, and the itinerant fortuneteller called Peta had joined their ranks. He was among the creepiest men Diana had ever had the fortune to meet, with sallow, waxy skin and long grey hair that draped halfway down his back, generally obscuring at least one of his huge, owlish eyes. He also had an aura of bookish wisdom that permeated the air around him- to such an extent that Diana often observed Phantom going to Peta with the questions he normally directed at her.

She didn't mind, of course; intelligent company was always welcomed in a house with two rowdy youths living in it. Peta settled in well, using the cottage as a base for his things and spending most of his time searching through the streets of the cities for like-minded people, and Diana sometimes enlisted his help in testing the ARMs Weasel had been looking after. He had a slow thoroughness that Phantom lacked.

Spring arrived, and with it came Nature's beauty. Weasel's garden burst into bloom; irises, pinks, hyacinths and forget-me-nots lining the pathways while cherry trees and raspberries turned the edges of the woodlands into white and pale pink walls. The sea beneath the cliff-tops seemed to morph from grey to sparkling blue, and the persistent clouds thinned out and blew away, at last revealing the azure sky in all its glory.

Diana stopped having to wear socks to bed.

One morning, she woke up just before dawn, and quietly made her way out to the garden to watch the sun come up over the sea. It was a cool, brisk morning, the chill nipping at her face and hands as her breath condensed in midair, white fog drifting off in the slow breeze. The grass crunched slightly underfoot- it was still a little frosty.

Several minutes passed as the sky in the east lightened, from dark blue, to pale yellow, to a blazing red as the light hit a bank of clouds far out over the ocean. Rays stretched out across the sky, and birds began to twitter in the trees. Diana watched, passive, wishing she had the artistic ability to paint something like this.

She stayed out in the garden for a while, before the breeze brought the smell of cooking eggs to her nose. Inside, Weasel had fired up the old potbellied stove, and it was blazing merrily through the glass window in the firebox door.

"You ready for some breakfast?" the old hermit asked, as Diana slipped in through the door. She nodded, conserving her words as she looked into the cozy living room.

Phantom and Rolan were curled up together on the couch, huddled under a heavy woolen blanket. Rolan's golden hair was draped all over his round, innocent face and the surrounding pillow, and his eyes flickered under their lids as though he was dreaming. His cheeks were flushed, and Diana inadvertently thought of Dorothy, whose similarly cherubic face still triggered painful memories in her heart.

Diana turned away, her gaze resting on the squishy armchair that Peta usually occupied when he stayed at the cottage. It was empty, and somehow forlorn, its many patches and stuffing leaks plain for all to see.

"He went out late last night," Weasel informed her, casually flipping the eggs on the stove's hot-plate. "Said he wanted to catch the night life in Rheingul."

"Well, good luck to him," Diana said, sighing. Rheingul was the largest city in the northern regions of MAR Heaven, and famous for being a hard and vicious place to live in. Diana doubted that Peta would recruit anyone from there.

Weasel chuckled, and turned to Diana, setting a plate down on the table and smiling in that peculiar way of his. "So how many eggs do you want?"

Life began to emerge from the woodwork at somewhere around ten o'clock that morning. It was Abigail's fault- she'd woken up quietly, padded out of the bedroom she shared with Diana, and promptly jumped on Phantom's head, in revenge for something he'd done the night before. Phantom's yell shocked Rolan into wakefulness, and the younger boy jumped up, whacking Abigail in the face with his flailing hand. Several minutes and stuttered apologies later, all three of them squeezed into the kitchen, making Diana sigh.

_Bye-bye, quiet morning._

Breakfast was a noisy affair as usual. Weasel's magic hands produced fried eggs for everyone, and Phantom and Abigail talked through full mouths, somehow managing to avoid spraying the rest of the table with mashed egg. Diana studiously ignored them, as did Weasel.

"Say, Diana, is there an ARM called the Zombie Tattoo?" Phantom asked about halfway through breakfast, his tone surprised, as if he'd just thought of the question. After a pause, Diana nodded.

"It's one of those strange ARMs that cannot be classified," she began, taking a deep breath and raising her gaze to the ceiling as she thought. "I suppose it's closest to a Ghost ARM. It turns your body into a corpse, yet you retain all of your functions barring those of a living organism- breathing, eating, and others. Once it has taken over your body, you become immortal, never to die, but never to truly live again. The only way to rid yourself of its effects is an ARM called Purificiave, which has been lost for centuries. It's a truly formidable ARM."

Diana's gaze suddenly narrowed, and she stared into Phantom's eyes, frowning. "Why ask me this now?"

Phantom was still for a moment, and then shrugged. "No real reason. Only I had this weird dream last night. There was this little old guy who looked a bit like a puppy, and he kept on repeating 'the Zombie Tattoo will be the death of you'. And all I could think of was ARMs."

Diana stilled, as an idea wormed its way into her mind. "The Zombie Tattoo is practically invincible," she said. "I don't see how it could be the death of you, even if you had it. It stops the body from healing on it's own, as living beings do, so to prevent the body from being worn down over time, it toughens the body's tissues massively, so that even the strongest physical attacks have little to no effect. It would take a gargantuan power to damage a Zombie Tattoo wielder."

"What about that ARM you mentioned?" Phantom asked, intrigued. "Purificiave, or whatever?"

"Lost, since before the Earthquake War," Diana said firmly. "There is little to no chance it is going to turn up again."

Phantom grinned. "I want it."

"The Zombie Tattoo?" Abigail asked, hurriedly swallowing her current mouthful. "Why would you wanna be immortal?"

"Not for the immortality, but for the convenience," Phantom explained. "For one thing, corpses don't feel pain. And not having to eat, though that is nice, and breathing… I could walk across the Caldean Strait, underwater!"

"And the toughness wouldn't be something to be sneezed at, either!" Abigail grinned, catching on. "Now I want it as well! But hey, if you're underwater, fishes'll start nibbling at you. By the time you got to the other side you'd be bones." Her grin shifted into something more evil. "Now that would be awesome. A walking skeleton!"

_Really, it's not a bad idea,_ Diana thought to herself, as Abigail and Phantom immersed themselves in discussing the merits of being a zombie. _If Phantom's going to be our figurehead, his very existence is going to need to be fearsome. And like he said, the Zombie Tattoo has definite merits for violence._

Then she narrowed her eyes._ I wonder if we have it._

Pushing her chair out from the table, she stood up, and made her way over to the bench, depositing her plate and knife beside the stove. Unnoticed, she walked out of the kitchen, and into the living room, kneeling beside the wooden chest that held their stash of ARMs. She opened the lid, and with a fluid effort, tipped them all out on the floorboards.

_Now what did it look like again…_

Sorting through the ARMs that spilled out of the chest took quite some time. She and Peta hadn't gone through this lot yet, and so Diana had no idea what some of them did. There were elemental ARMs, with their motifs of swirling water and thick, dark earth, and weapon ARMs with skillfully etched blades on their smooth surfaces. Strange ARMs masqueraded as ordinary jewellery amongst showy Holy ARMs, and a Ghost ARM twisted into disturbing shapes around a wooden hand. Diana gazed for a minute at this ARM, and then palmed it. It looked like the sort of thing Abigail would like.

"Whatcha lookin' for?" A voice behind her asked. Diana managed to stop herself from jumping in surprise, and looked back.

Abigail and Rolan stood there, hands in pockets and looking curiously between Diana and the ARMs piled on the floor. "Whatcha got there?" Abigail continued, nodding towards the Ghost ARM in Diana's hands.

Diana looked at it. "Chaos Rules," she answered shortly, and tossed it up to Abigail. The girl fumbled it, but somehow managed to catch it around her pinky finger.

"Eh?" Abigail said inarticulately, lifting the ARM up to her gaze and studying it closely. "The hell?"

"It's an ARM," Diana said, going back to sifting through the ARMs. "It's name is Chaos Rules, and I'm giving it to you."

"Really?" Abigail asked doubtfully. Diana nodded.

"Sweet! I'd hug you if you weren't so spiky!" Abigail grinned, settling cross-legged on the floor in the middle of the doorway. "So what're you doing?"

"Trying to find an ARM," Diana said, while Rolan clambered onto the couch behind her. Abigail raised an eyebrow.

"Would it be the Zombie Tattoo, by any chance?"

Diana nodded. "When Phantom and I left Caldea, we took seven hundred-odd ARMs from the Palace, all extremely high-class ARMs, with massive powers. What Phantom said this morning made me realize that, just possibly, the Zombie Tattoo might be among them."

"Do you know what it looks like?" Abigail asked, leaning forward and resting her weight on her elbows as she peered down at the glittering pile of ARMs.

"I have no clue," Diana admitted, picking up a handful of magic stones and shifting the aside. "All I can do is sort out the ones I know, and test out the ones I don't."

"Kinda haphazard method, don'tcha thnk?" Abigail asked, grinning lopsidedly. Diana gazed coldly at her.

"Have you got a better method?" she asked. Abigail blinked, and shrugged, still grinning.

"Then don't state the obvious," Diana continued. "I know what I'm doing. Where's Phantom?"

To their surprise, it was Rolan who answered. "H-he's gone to s-see Alma."

Diana paused in her sorting. That made sense. Pity. Phantom had been going to see that sailor woman every moment he could spare lately.

The corner of her mouth twitched derisively, and Diana threw the next reject back into the chest a little harder than she should have. Abigail tensed, and asked, "What's up with you?"

Diana ignored her, and tried to banish the buzzing in her ears.

By early afternoon, she was down to three mystery ARMs left, and she was beginning to feel desperate. The manic surety that had fired her onwards before had drained off, and looking at the three ornate rings left in her pile, the sense of impending disappointment seemed to be drawing ever closer.

"Three left, huh?" Abigail commented, picking up the biggest ARM left, a heavy iron ring with jagged flanges protruding from every surface. "Do this one next, Diana, it's pretty."

_Pretty?_ Diana asked mentally, but took it anyway, and forced her magic into its long-dormant channels. A loud hiss sounded, and the ring began to move in her hand, slithering between her fingers and wetly worming its way onto her wrist. Diana bit her lip, and nearly dropped it before she dragged her magic back out of it.

_Gods, she _hated _snakes._

"Cool!" Abigail laughed, picking the ugly thing up and adding it to the growing pile of ugly and faintly disturbing ARMs she had in front of her. "Can I keep it, Diana?"

"I see no reason for you to not keep it," Diana said calmly. _It's not as if anyone else will want it anyway, it's practically useless. _Frowning again, she picked up the next ARM- another ring, but this one as airy and light as the other had been dark and malevolent. It was made mostly of glass, with silver trimmings, and Diana instantly liked the beautiful thing.

She pumped magic into it- or tried to, the channels were so encrusted with centuries of stillness that she had to fight for almost a whole minute to get a trickle of magic into it- and once she had, she wished she hadn't. There was some kind of _monster_ in there.

She stopped, quickly withdrawing her magic and looking down at the last ring. It was plain and dark silver-grey, possibly made of tin. It had no inset gems, no engravings that she could see, just a thin, flat band that would fit snugly around her ring finger.

Diana took a deep breath.

"Last one," Abigail said.

"Last one," Diana agreed, and slipped the ring on. And the world dissolved in strips around her.

_Darkness. And a pattern of light. _

_What do you want?_

_Fear, heartstopping fear. _

"_Zombie Tattoo…"_

_Simple, freezing, cold. _

_Zombie._

_Amusing, laughing- so the world will end again?_

_Mouth was dry…_

_Fear. Darkness. Light. _

_You may have it. _

"…whoa, snap out of it, Diana!"

Fingers clicked, right in front of Diana's eyes. Instinctively, she reached out and grabbed them.

Abigail giggled. "You're back. What just happened? You completely spaced out on us there!"

Diana blinked, and shook her head, feeling like cobwebs had wrapped themselves around her brain. "I… don't know," she began, uncertain of what she was going to say next. "It's like I got feelings, rather than any actual words or senses. The only thing I remember for sure is a light in the darkness."

Abigail blinked again, and looked at the ring on Diana's finger. " So is it the Zombie Tattoo?" she asked hopefully, raising her eyebrows. "'Cos if it isn't, this was just a gigantic waste of time."

Slowly, Diana smiled. Abigail watched the grin spread across her face, and slowly she began to smile as well.

"It is, isn't it." She stated.

Diana nodded. "I would bet my life on it."

Abigail's smile only grew. "You gonna tell Phantom when he gets back?"

"Of course. He was the one who asked about it, after all."

"Good." Then Abigail's expression went furtive, and she sidled closer to Diana. "Only, you know, even if he doesn't want it, can you still zap me with it? 'Cos, you know, I'm really starting to like the sounds of this zombie lark."

Diana nodded, just to get Abigail's disgusting mop of hair out from under her nose. The girl hadn't washed in _weeks_.

They gathered outside the cottage, on the small stretch of lawn between the verandah and the edge of the cliff. Excitement drifted in the air, evident in their expressions- in Peta's wide, glittering eyes, in the kids' nervy grins, in Phantom's racing heartbeat. Diana was excited too, but she tried her best not to show it, the training of her upbringing in Caldea too much of a useful habit to let slip now.

"Are you ready?" she asked Phantom, her face blank and composed as always. Phantom swallowed, and nodded, stepping forward, the onlookers forming a loose ring around him.

Diana held out her hand, and, her heart pounding nervously in her chest, spoke the fateful words.

"_Zombie Tattoo!"_

At first nothing happened. Phantom's breath quickened slightly, but he remained unchanged. Diana felt the steady tug of the ARM feeding on her magic, getting up enough power to bridge the gap and bury itself in Phantom's body-

Then a burst of light flashed across the lawn, and the smell of burning wool hung in the air. Phantom fell to his knees, coughing, his hands pressed to the center of his chest, and Diana gritted her teeth. On the other side of the circle, Peta and Weasel's expressions were unreadable, and a wide-eyed Abigail held the kid back as Phantom's coughing turned to pained gasps and grunts of pain. Blood-red shadows flickered under his skin, spreading down his arms and legs and onto his face, jagged lines like cracks in pottery.

Suddenly, all the colour vanished from Phantom's face, and his muscles tensed, his eyes going wide and panicked. A strange moaning sound filled the clearing, and it took Diana a few seconds to realize that it was coming from Phantom, hissing out through his clenched teeth. He'd collapsed onto his side by now, his face screwed up in pain, and his chest heaving with ragged gasps. Time seemed to stretch out- seconds into minutes, minutes into hours- and then all his muscles went limp and flaccid, as though he were a puppet whose strings had been cut.

A second, then two seconds went by, and Diana hurried over to him, crouching beside him and quickly checking his pulse.

It was gone.

Diana's eyes widened, hope and worry warring in her mind. She sat back on her heels, wrapping her arms around her knees and staring at Phantom's body.

"Is... is he dead?" Abigail asked, her eyes wide with excitement. Beside her, Rolan looked like he was torn between wanting to smile and cry.

"Did it work?" Peta asked, his voice steady and apprehensive.

Phantom's eyes shot open then, and Diana smiled triumphantly.

"Looks like it did!"

Abigail let out a whoop. "All right!" she yelled, pumping her fist in the air. "World's first Zombie-man, right here in the circus, ladies and gentlemen!" Grabbing Rolan's hands, she danced around the clearing with the boy in tow, just missing a clump of rosebushes in her wild celebrations.

Phantom blinked, and looked at Diana, before he made a strange squeaking noise. Frowning, he took an experimental breath, and said, "That was odd. I guess I need to breathe to talk."

"It would make sense," Diana agreed. "Do you feel all right?"

Phantom's eyes flickered closed again. "Actually, I can't move at all. It feels like there's a ton of bricks stacked on my body."

"From what I could find out, that's normal," Diana informed him. "You don't need to sleep, but you'll want to sleep for the first few days, while your body finishes the changes, because it's most likely going to be quite uncomfortable. If you feel pain during that time, that's also normal, it's something to do with your flesh toughening up while your nerves die off. Don't worry, we'll take care of you."

"Thanks." Phantom smiled faintly, and his body stilled completely, suddenly resembling nothing more than the corpse it was. Diana reached out to touch his face, and as her fingers touched his flesh, her skin began to crawl. He was cooling rapidly, heat leeching out of his body and dissipating in the cool evening air.

She withdrew her hand, and turned her gaze towards Weasel and Peta. "Help me get him inside. We'll put him on my bed for now."

Both men nodded, and stepped forward to help.

It was dark inside the bedroom, the heavy curtains drawn together and blocking out the sunlight. Diana shivered, watching the heat and colour slip forever out of Phantom's body.

_You did well,_ the Orb commented from somewhere under the bed. _Look at our captain now, my Queen. He will be unstoppable. _

Diana let a satisfied smile twitch at her lips. "Yes," she agreed, crossing her legs and shifting in the wicker chair. "I didn't dare hope that this would ever be possible."

_I know,_ the Orb said. Diana didn't bother asking how.

Phantom's eyes flickered under closed lids. His mouth moved, lips forming words. Diana moved closer to him.

"…Al…ma…?" The sounds were barely a whisper. Diana frowned bitterly.

"No, it's me," she said, temper creeping into her voice in the form of ice. "Alma does not know of this yet."

"…What's she… gonna… say?"

_Well, good on you? Yay, my lover is a zombie?_ Diana squashed the vicious retorts piling up in the back of her mind, and shook her head, feeling the sleek mass of her hair weighing heavy on her back.

"I don't know," she said at last, as honestly as she could. "Best-case scenario, she supports us and understands our reasoning."

_Worst-case? _The Orb asked, as Phantom drifted back into unconsciousness, apparently satisfied with Diana's answer.

"She freaks out and rejects Phantom, thus crushing his spirit and turning him against us as well." Diana clenched her jaw. She would not let it get to that stage.

_Then we will have to kill Alma,_ the Orb said. _She is too dangerous for us to let her live any longer._

In the bed, Phantom let out a tortured groan. And Diana had never felt happier.

_^*^_

We will have to kill Alma.

The Orb's words echoed in Diana's head all through week. Abigail's chatter was dull, and faraway, compared to the racing excitement that rushed through Diana's veins. Phantom was putting up a good front so far, laughing and jesting with the kid, but the pain was apparent in his eyes, and Diana was beginning to regret ever letting his relationship with the sailor progress so far.

But after tonight, that particular problem would be gone. Only Diana and the Orb knew which date had been chosen for Alma's execution.

Tonight.

Tonight, Phantom would truly belong to the revolution.

Vestry's cave system was extensive, spreading for miles underground around the township. In the light of the full moon, the crags surrounding the biggest of the cavern mouths were forbidding, shadows sharply contrasting with milky white moonlight. The quiet lapping of the sea was all that could be heard, barring the clatter of pebbles knocked loose by Diana's progress across the rocky beach. The Orb languished in a sack on her back, knocking uncomfortably against her spine with every jolt she felt.

Diana paused at the top of a rocky slope, picking out a safe route down into the mouth of the cave that led straight into the sea cavern Alma's ship was berthed in. The Orb muttered something in its bag, and Diana glanced back at it, smiling.

"Do you feel her?" she asked, blinking as a night zephyr rustled at her clothes. The Orb muttered some more to itself before it answered.

_Yes. She is there._

"Is all the crew with her?" Diana asked, brushing her hair back from her face as she gazed around the sheltered cove. "Can you feel them? Or are they out in Vestry, drinking without her?"

_No,_ the Orb hissed, its dry voice suddenly dangerous and malevolent. _They're in the caves. Livestock trapped in a slaughterhouse pen._

Diana's blood quickened, as a dark anticipation rushed through her veins. "It'll be you who kills them," she said. It wasn't a question.

The Orb made a sound halfway between a chuckle and a snort of disgust. _Not just kill them, _it said as she stepped into the shade of the cave's mouth. _Wipe them from the physical plane entirely, and trap them down here to fester for all eternity, never to be freed by mortal man. Opposition must be eradicated._

A shiver went up Diana's spine, and as she stepped deeper into the cave, the warm light of daylight disappeared completely, leaving the soft glow of the luminous rock as the only source of light. The Orb was muttering sibilantly to itself, dark malevolence showing as a palpable aura around its suddenly chilly glass body. The soft trickle of water became more and more pronounced the further they went into the cave, and soon Diana saw, by the light of the luminous fungi coating the cave walls, glinting streams running through narrow channels and along the slippery ground.

_Nearly there,_ the Orb said shortly, and soon Diana emerged out into a starlit cavern, its roof and seaward side completely eroded away by the elements. Huge boulders littered the place, and Diana climbed up on top of one, kneeling on the hard, cold stone as she gazed down at the ship that rocked gently at its moorings in the deepest part of the cave.

_There goes our prey!_ The Orb said, in an almost sing-song voice. _My Queen, watch as they scurry like rats._

Diana barely had time to blink before a dark and choking power filled the air, so thick she could almost see it swirling in the shadows. A monstrous groan sounded, low and reverberating in her bones, and slowly, gracefully, the ship rose out of the water, hovering above the rippling surface.

The excitement in Diana's veins reached boiling point. She looked down at the Orb, her teeth bared in a feral sort of grin.

"What are you going to do?" she asked, as the first faint screams reached her ears.

_Watch_, the Orb replied simply, and effortlessly flipped the ship upside down. The tip of the tallest mast just touched the surface of the water, and around it, splashes sounded as the sailors that were on deck dropped off into the lake. Diana frowned, disappointed- and then the surface of the lake erupted into flames.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, her hands gripping her skirts so tight her knuckles were going white and bloodless. The heat from the flames was so fierce she could feel it burning from her perch on top of the boulder-pile. Somehow, amazingly, the ship wasn't catching fire, but she could smell smoke, and the paleness of the sails was slowly turning-char-black.

_Aha! _The Orb exclaimed. _There goes our rat-girl!_

An invisible hand punched a gigantic hole in the side of the ship, and extracted a struggling figure from the dark cabin within. Suddenly uncaring, the Orb tossed the ship aside; it sailed the length of the cavern before crashing to rest in the shoals near the entrance of the cave. The dark power intensified, subsonic sounds sending shivers down Diana's spine, and the rocky roof of the cavern blurred, dripping down the walls like molten wax. Slowly but surely, it spread across the entrance, blocking the cavern off entirely.

_If anyone is left alive, they will starve to death down here, _the Orb commented, cackling softly to itself. _Now, let's greet our gracious hostess._

Out over the lake of flames, Alma began to float towards them. And as she drew closer, Diana began to see the pure terror in the sailor's expression.

"Who are you?!" she screamed at them, her voice cracked and near-hysterical. "Why are you doing this?!"

Diana stepped forward out of the shadows, and gave the sailor her best angelic smile. Alma's jaw dropped open in disbelief.

"What… Diana…? You- you did this."

Silently Diana nodded. There was no pint in letting her know about the Orb, not now she was about to die.

Inside the Orb's telekinesis-cage, Alma fell to her knees. "Why?" she asked simply, betrayal thick in her voice. "My crew… they did nothing to you… I did nothing to you! Why did you kill them?!"

And slowly, Diana began to laugh. "You don't know?" she asked, feeling chuckles bubble inside her chest. "Dual loyalties, my dear. Phantom needs to be completely focused on his goals. You are a distraction to those goals. Therefore, I offered to get rid of such a distraction, and you know what? He accepted it."

Alma just blinked. Diana could almost feel the despair radiating off her- and as if in answer, a wild joy rose up in her own heart. She had wanted to break this woman for so long, and now that moment was at hand, she could think of nothing else. The sweet taste of the kill was in her mouth.

"As for your crew, they were merely the first to be cleansed from this world," she continued, drunk with the power. "In all that time you spent with Phantom, you never asked what his all-important goals were, did you? Then I shall tell you."

She paused for dramatic effect then, and Alma looked up, sea-green eyes meeting cold sapphire. Blank and despairing, that was all that could be seen in her gaze, but Diana dug deeper, bearing down in the other woman with every ounce of her will, and saw a deep, fiery determination, burning dormant in her mind.

Diana smiled. "The destruction of humankind." She said simply, and watched in triumph as Alma bowed her head at last.

"What will you do now?" The sailor's voice was barely a whisper. Diana's smile grew wider.

"Why in the world should I tell you?" she asked, walking forward and laying a gentle hand on Alma's prison. The woman didn't answer.

"I thought so. But you know, I may as well tell you. It was you that gave me the idea, you know."

Alma's head turned slightly; she was listening, Diana knew. Now _there_ was the strong woman, the sailor who had simply fallen in love with the wrong person.

Time to deliver the killing blow.

"If you will remember, a while ago, you mentioned that Lestava's queen had died, and that the king was looking for a new wife. Simply put, I intend to become that woman who is chosen to be the Queen of queens."

"You'll never be Queen," Alma muttered. "The King will see right through you."

Diana closed her eyes, and went deep inside her mind, finding the serene core that she occupied in public, and concentrated. Bliss spread through her limbs, and she opened her eyes again.

Alma was gazing up at her, eyes wide in shock, and Diana saw herself reflected in those sea-green orbs, blazing with angelic benevolence.

She smiled, kindness suffusing her expression. "How could he?" she asked, and then turned away, stepping back into the shadows.

"After all, you never did."

Amid total darkness, Alma heard the dark wings of death draw ever closer.

_^*^_

"I wanna fight, damnit!"

From across the kitchen, Diana gazed carefully at Abigail as the teen complained noisily. The excitement and glamour of being in a foreign country had well and truly worn off now, and with nothing to do except practice activating her ARM, Abigail had rapidly fallen victim to boredom. Irritation was evident in her every movement, and her normally wide obsidian eyes were narrowed into a vicious glare. The Ghost ARM Phantom had given her, Chaos Piece, was clenched tightly between her fingers, so tightly it left white imprints every time she shifted her grip on it.

"Why? What's so good about fighting?" Diana asked levelly. Abigail shot her an unreadable look.

"It's something to do, of course. Better that just sitting around doing nothing all day."

"But people get hurt," Rolan piped up innocently. "It's n-not good to hurt people."

"Aw, shut up!" Abigail snapped. "Who cares!"

Eyes wide and shocked, the kid bit his lip and sank down in his chair. In the chair beside him, Phantom narrowed his eyes.

"Hey, leave Rolan alone," he said, leaning forward and frowning at Abigail. "He didn't do anything to you, so don't take it out on him."

Abigail looked blankly at Phantom, and then narrowed her eyes into the evilest glare Diana had ever seen. "You," she said emphatically, her left hand rising to point dramatically at Phantom's heart. "You fight me. If you don't fight me, I'll just have to make you."

Phantom blinked. "But we're on the same side," he said somewhat lamely, his momentary maturity gone with the sudden change of subject.

Abigail glared harder. "Who the hell cares? I want to fight you."

_She has a point, _Diana thought to herself as Phantom tried to back out of the argument. _By fighting with each other, though perhaps not at full strength, we can practice and improve ourselves, and at the same time advancing all our skills to equal levels. _She looked over to Weasel, standing by the hearth, and met his eyes- it seemed he had been having the same thoughts.

"Okay, enough," she ordered, stepping forward and slapping her palm against the hard surface of the table. "Phantom, Abigail has a point. Training fights could be useful to us, and since she has designated you as her first opponent, you will fight her."

"Sweet!" Abigail grinned, as Phantom's eyes took on a puppydog expression of betrayal. "Can I fight you too?"

Diana glanced at Abigail, and then, with as much disdain as she could muster, said, "Don't push your luck."

Abigail's face sank into a comical pout.

Half an hour later, all five of the conspirators were gathered in a clearing in the woods, somewhere south of Weasel's cottage. Diana, Weasel and the kid stood on the very edge of the forest, leaving the clear ground free for the fight, while Abigail and Phantom squared off in the center, gazes locked and ARMs at the ready.

Diana raised her arm, ready to signal the fight's start. "Ready… Go!"

Even before her arm had dropped back at her side, Abigail was moving, dodging and jinking towards Phantom as her hands melted and reformed themselves into vicious, claw-tipped, metal-plated appendages. Phantom's eyes narrowed, tracking her lightning-fast movements, and stepped aside just as she lunged in and swiped at his gut, blocking her other hand with a huge, jagged sword ARM.

Abigail grinned a crocodile grin. "This is fun."

In a flurry of rapid blows, she forced Phantom back towards the edge of the forest, a long, whiplike tail extending out from the base of her spine. Phantom calmly materialized another sword, this one a sleek single-edged blade, and thrust it towards her, making her leap backwards to avoid it. They paused for a second, Phantom standing straight and wary, and Abigail half-crouched, her oversized arms dangling in front of her and her rat's-tail swiping lazily from side to side behind her.

Then first one, then two of Phantom's guardians appeared. Abigail narrowed her eyes, and darted towards the skeletal, black-cloaked one, curling her monsterized hand into a fist and punching it so hard it flew backwards into a thistle bush, before she whirled around to meet the other's attack.

But it wasn't there. Diana blinked- it seemed the spiderlike guardian could teleport.

Abigail quickly spotted it, crouched on the grass a few feet away. Then a hole opened up in the air behind it, and it stepped through, disappearing totally from view. It appeared again right behind Abigail, and reached a long, spindly arm around her, the blade it held in its mismatched fingers pricking at her throat.

"I win," Phantom said smugly, folding his arms and smiling triumphantly.

To his surprise, Abigail smiled back. "Nope. I'm not beaten yet."

And her monster hands wrapped around the guardian's arms, forcing the knife away from her throat as blood from the shallow cut it left dripped down her neck. Phantom's eyes widened as the guardian automatically produced another knife, and plunged it towards the girl's shoulder- but Abigail dodged again, dancing out and away from the guardian, doubling back so fast she seemed to blur, and slicing her claws right through the guardian's body.

"See?"

Behind her, Phantom grinned, leveling his blades at her neck. "Nope. You still lose."

Abigail's eyes widened, and she all but wailed, "Why you little…!"

Diana stifled a chuckle, turning to Weasel. "So," she began, smiling slightly, "Do we need to continue?"

Weasel shook his head, grinning. "Nah. Let the young 'uns have their fun. Rolan, do you want a go?"

"Yeah!"

Diana's smile widened, hearing the unbridled enthusiasm in the kid's voice.

_Now I want a go too._

_^*^_

The instant Peta materialized in the front yard, everyone knew about it. Abigail had gone to get a drink after their rigorous practice session, and the fortune-teller had materialized on the lawn just as she went past.

"PETA'S HEEEEEERRREEEE!!"

Diana, who had been sitting on the drystone fence and soaking up the sun, wearily rubbed at her ears. Abigail was the loudest girl she had ever had the fortune to come across.

"AND HE'S GOT A FRIEND TOO!!!"

Now that was out of the ordinary. Diana wriggled off the flat shale, and padded around the side of the cottage, carefully avoiding the patch of mud that still hadn't dried up yet. The front lawn came into view around the side of the house, and Diana saw three figures- Peta, striding towards the house, and Abigail facing off with another figure, a short, scrawny man with black hair and smoky brown skin. _Odd,_ she thought, her muscles tense as she all but stalked across to Peta.

"Peta!" she called softly, and the fortune-teller turned to face her, his boots crunching on the gravel as his robe swirled about him in the mild breeze.

"Queen," he said acknowledging her with a nod.

"Who is that?" she asked, nodding towards the man arguing with Abigail.

"I don't know his name," Peta replied in an undertone. "I was speaking to a Luberian, and he overheard me mention the revolution. I don't believe he cares about reforming the world, and he is reputed to be a murderer among the Lestavan slumdwellers, but he is strong. We can use him."

Diana pursed her lips in thought. "I'll be the judge of that. Phantom is in the clearing, training the boy- would you go get him? I will greet our guest."

Without waiting for an answer, she strode over to the lawn, putting a calming hand on Abigail's shoulder and cutting her off in mid-rant. The murderer looked mildly impressed.

"I hear you might be interested in joining our cause," she said, gazing expressionlessly into his black eyes. He nodded, smiling amusedly.

"Yeah, sure. It sounds like fun."

Diana bit back a sneer. The man's entire manner went against her morals. She had no trouble believing Peta's words about his criminal history.

"Hmmm. Perhaps we should test that theory. Phantom?"

"Yeah?" Phantom asked, from somewhere behind her. Diana smiled, keeping her eyes fixed on the murderer's bland expression.

"Would you like to test our guest's skills?"

She felt rather than saw Phantom's gaze, sizing up his opponent. "Yeah, okay," he said at last, and Diana smartly moved out from between them.

"No fair," Abigail mutinously muttered. "I wanted to fight him."

Diana glanced at her, and perhaps wisely decided not to say anything.

Out on the lawn, Phantom's gaze locked with the man, and the air took on an electric, focused feeling. Diana licked her lips- here were two of the most powerful men she had even met. Their magical power towered far above the Caldean Great Elder's, and perhaps even above her own…

Diana blinked. That wasn't possible. She would make sure that it never happened.

The next instant, two of Phantom's guardians flickered into existence on either side of the murderer, the weapons they held in their bony hands flashing towards his neck. Diana's eyes widened- she hadn't expected Phantom to attack so _fast-_ and fire burst into existence, a glorious haze surrounding the murderer. It blossomed outwards, engulfing the two guardians and burning them into magic-ridden ash, as the murderer streaked towards Phantom, dodging around Peta and raising a clenched fist to slam into the other man's face. Phantom stepped forward into the attack, and in a move Diana knew she hadn't taught him, somehow reached forward and flipped the murderer over his shoulder, to slam full-force into the hard clay. Before the startled murderer had a chance to move, Phantom knelt down and straddled his stomach, wrapping his thin, strong fingers around the murderer's throat and squeezing just enough to make breathing difficult.

The murderer grinned, and laughed, a horrible, choking sound being forced past his thin, cracked lips. "Oh good," he said, sounding more amused than anything else, "you're powerful, at least."

"More so than I ever thought you had the potential to be," Diana said quietly, and over by the shack, Weasel's wise eyes twinkled in agreement. The scruffy child beside the hermit stared with wide, adoring golden eyes at Phantom. A silence fell, no one in the clearing moving, save for Phantom's fingers flexing about the murderer's neck.

"So…" the murderer began, his voice cracking with the pressure on his throat, "you gonna let me get up?"

Phantom stared at his for a moment, and then raised his head to stare at Diana. "He's powerful," he told her, his battle-expression slowly melting off his features. "And cunning."

"Let him up," Diana said, nodding her approval.

Phantom scrambled to his feet, stepping away from the murderer to stand beside Peta. The murderer lay still on the clay for a while, massaging his throat with a rueful expression on his face as the chill wind that blew through the clearing ruffled his thick, ragged robes.

"I'll join you," he said at last, grinning as he sat up and pushed himself to his feet. He really was short, Diana realized as he turned to face her, and the protruding hands and feet that hung from the ends of his sleeves were small, nimble and wiry, like those of a monkey. "I'll guess that you're the one running this little outfit, seeing as he's taking orders from you," he added, motioning to Phantom and grinning without a hint of amusement on his dark face. "Are they all in too?"

In the background, Diana saw Weasel nod.

"Yes," she said. The murderer looked skeptical.

"Even the kid?" he asked.

"I'm not a kid!" The kid shyly protested, forgetting about his stutter in his indignance.

"So how old are you?"

"Eleven!"

"Fair enough," the murderer shrugged, as Phantom looked on in amusement. "So, yeah, I'm in. You can call me Halloween."

_^*^_

"So we need a name," Phantom announced out of the blue that evening, after they had eaten their fill of Weasel's cooking and retreated to the cottage garden to watch the stars come out. "Everyone else has a name- you know, Palace Guard, whatever. So we need a name too, otherwise people won't know how to talk about us."

Halloween, who had spat a great gob of phlegm onto the ground at the mention of the Palace Guard, much to Diana's disgust, nodded slowly in agreement.

"So, you got any ideas yet, Phantom?" he asked, boredly eyeing the pile of giant pumpkins in the shed near the cliff's edge. "I was thinking we could be Phoenix, but that sounds kinda weird and pussy." He blinked, and added, " On the other hand, it's a fiery name."

"We know you're obsessed with fire, get over it," Abigail laughed, stretching out flat on the damp ground. Halloween sneered at her.

"Watch it, otherwise you'll find yourself grey ash smeared all over the walls," he threatened, baring his white teeth and grinning mirthlessly. "I burnt three other uppity brats to cinders, I can burn you as well."

"Shut up," Diana told them both, gazing evenly at first Halloween, then Abigail. "Save that anger, and then direct it at those who deserve it."

"Why do we need a name anyway?" Abigail groused, staring resentfully back at Diana.

_I can answer that,_ the Orb suddenly said, and the startled eyes of four of the conspirators turned to Diana, before three of them demanded an explanation of the sudden disembodied voice.

"What the hell is that?" Abigail and Halloween asked in unison, glaring momentarily at each other.

"Something spoke!" Rolan exclaimed. "I h-heard it!"

"That would be the King," Phantom grinned, crossing his arms and leaning forward conspiratorially.

"The king?" Rolan asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah. You know how we've got a queen already?" Phantom said, gesturing at Diana. "The King is her equal in power."

_That's right, _the Orb said dryly. Rolan's eyes went as round as saucers.

"So why do we need a name, then?" Peta asked, not as easily impressed as Rolan. "Let's hear your reasoning."

"Yeah!" distrusting Abigail agreed.

The Orb seemed to sigh. _Like I told Phantom once, a name is an identity. Nameless things, things we can't define, are always those most feared. Nameless things are unknown, and fear of the unknown is far more powerful than most people realize. When we give ourselves a name, we are taking ourselves out of the dark, the unknown, and letting people see us for what we really are. People might not like what they see, but we will be there, we will be approachable, we will be tangible. With luck, we might even be joined by people who think alike- something that would be impossible if we remain in the shadows._

It fell into a thoughtful silence then, and added, _but it has to be an attractive name. Otherwise people will never take us seriously._

Peta's expressive lips quirked into a smile. "I thought as much," he said, nodding. "I agree, and I have an about 'Chess Pieces'?"

_Your reasoning? _The Orb asked.

"We have a king, a queen, and at least two knights. Given our small numbers, strategy will be a big part of our battle, and the slightest mistake could lead to our downfall." Peta smiled wolfishly, and gazed straight at Diana. "I can draw parallels between each of you and your pieces, if you would like. Besides, the name flows nicely."

"I like it," Phantom stated, smiling, and Peta shot him an unreadable glance.

"Me too," Rolan piped up, brushing his lank golden hair out of his wide puppy-dog eyes. "And if w-we get more people, we can have bishops and r-rooks and pawns as well!"

"You know how to play chess?" Halloween asked him, surprised, and Rolan nodded happily in answer.

"M-my parents taught me ages ago."

"Huh," the murderer sighed. "Well you know more about it than me, in that case."

"Doesn't matter if you know about it or not," Phantom said bluntly. "It still works. Queen, what do you think?"

Diana smiled a small, mysterious smile, a knot of pride tightening in her chest. "Excellent," she said, straightening imperceptibly and gazing imperiously at each of the conspirators in turn. "Then we shall be the Chess Pieces, and we shall win at our own game. I can feel it."

"Well, I sure hope you're right," Abigail sighed, gazing up at the star-studded night. "I really wanna see this new world that we're fighting for."

Diana didn't reply. She had sunk deep into her own thoughts, and while her eyes unblinkingly watched the constellations flicker; her thoughts were far away, with Dorothy in Caldea.

And at last, she realized that she didn't feel any regret. She knew she had done the right thing. With luck, Dorothy would see why she had done what she had to do, and then they could purify the world together, sisters with no equal, whom no one would be able to stop.

"Hey, Diana? Are you all right?" Phantom asked in a barely audible whisper, as the other members of the Chess Pieces watched Halloween and Abigail fighting about something obscure.

Diana lifted her eyes to meet his violet orbs, and smiled, warmly and sincerely. "Yes," she said. And for the first time since they had set out on this journey, she meant it.

_^*^_

The next morning, Diana set out for Lestava Castle.

She never looked back.


End file.
